The Innocents
by pinkaffinity
Summary: kairi : losing love, losing war, losing innocence
1. love

JUST SO YOU KNOW: This was a work two years in the making. Sorry if writing style differs or if things don't have continuity. The first two parts were posted, taken down, and now are being reposted. I'm just so glad I finally finished it that I needed to put it back up.

author's notes: This is a request by the lovely Ana. She asked for this craziness, people. Blame her! BLAME HER! …But on a more serious note, this was very difficult for me to write. I couldn't stop thinking about it, but at the same time, I couldn't get the words out. Scenes played in my head all the time, but I just couldn't write it down. Also, this is probably the deepest, most serious thing I've ever written, and it really upset me at times. So, yeah. This was hard. IT'S A GOOD THING I LOVE YOU, ANA. Enjoy!

thanks: To Suki! She helped me fix a lot of things in this, giving me ideas and suggestions. She helped me to make this so much better! SO MUCH BETTER! Many, many thanks must be given to the pirate mother. Also, thanks, I suppose, to the two major musical pieces of inspiration for me: Ebla by E.S. Posthumous and Beethoven's Moonlight Sonata. Both are awesome and very beautiful. ;)

disclaimer: I don't own anything, man. Neither Kingdom Hearts nor its characters nor any other references to movies, songs, etc. that were (not so) secretly placed in this. If you can guess them all, you win! Well, not really. I don't own any fun prizes. The only thing I own is the story itself. Respect that.

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><p>. t h e . i n n o c e n t s .<p>

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><p>"God, I just don't know what to do," he cried out as he leaned his head back, yanking at clumps of his dirty blond hair.<p>

"Demyx, you just need to calm down." The Ferris-wheel car shook as he waved his arms about. My hands shot out and swiftly grabbed the bar in front of me, my knuckles glowing a bright white from squeezing just a little bit too hard. I grimaced. Demyx was forcing me on this ride. It was not my choice, and I wanted the most comfortable ride I could get. Shaking the seat was not included.

"Calm down? How am I supposed to _calm down?_ She's here, Kai, she's here and she's with those two boys I always see her hanging with. I can't even remember their names. It's not important."

"Seifer and Rai?" I suggested, stretching my legs out in front of me. I scanned the area below, searching for Demyx's new love interest. He had a new one every week, I could swear. All I really knew about this one is that she doesn't talk much. A change from the ones he usually went after. Maybe this was going to be a change for the better.

"How do you remember that?"

"How are you so fickle that you find a new girl every week?" I asked, propping my elbow up on the bar and waving my hand confidently. He leaned back. The cars went round in their circuit. I smiled.

"Touché," he said, patting me on the back with a smile blossoming on his face. "But-"

"Fuu is different," I groaned, finishing his sentence easily.

"Exactly!" he exclaimed, a wide smile splitting his face as he seemingly ignored my extreme lack of enthusiasm. Demyx was always like this. Just excited. Happy. But I guess that's why he made such a great friend. He could always make me smile.

"Well," I said, drawing out my breath, "You could, you know, _talk_ with her."

"What?"

"God, you can be such a baby. She's not going to bite."

"How can you be so sure?" Demyx waggled a finger at me. I sighed again, leaning my head back against my too-tense shoulders, glancing at the wide expanse of the sky twinkling down upon us. The dark blue hues swirled amongst the stars, casting a mysterious glow upon the ground. A heavy cloud shaded the moon from view. We didn't need its light, though. The bright colors and flashing lights of the Traverse Town carnival would definitely suffice to illuminate the evening.

"Fine, don't talk to her. Just let her run off. Again." I paused. "You know, lover boy, you're never going to get her if you don't even try."

"No, no, no! Don't say that!" His hands grasped his face, his fingers loosely pulling his cheeks down, revealing the watery pinkness of his eyes.

"It's true, though," I admitted, closing my eyes, trying to ignore the height.

"Well, how could a guy get your attention?" He asked, a hint of oncoming teasing lacing his tone. "How did the wonderful Mr. Sora Hikari get your attention?"

I blushed and struggled to conceal my grin, thinking of the day I first met Sora. I didn't really want to go into the details for Demyx. The story was kind of embarrassing. "Just… just play your sitar for her," I managed to spit out. Although playing matchmaker with Demyx was one of the more fun aspects of our unorthodox friendship, I despised talking about my love life. It was too complicated. Way too complicated. Most people wouldn't think so. But it was.

As our car made another round, sweeping past the crowd of people gathered at the base of the ride, I saw him there. How could I have missed him before? Or had he just come by? Either way, my heart quickened, sending tiny pulses throughout my body. Axel Chalmers always seemed to do that to me. Still.

It was like slow motion, I remember. The wind seemed to whisper through my hair, sending tendrils fluttering against my cheeks as our car flew backwards. My breath hitched in my throat. The carnival lights flashed in his too-green eyes, sending menacing sparks through my body. He smiled, his lips pulling over his teeth slowly, like the Cheshire Cat. He reached out in front of himself, and with one hand on the railing, he threw his long, lithe body over the barrier. The ride operator was scolding him. I could see her lips moving. I didn't hear it of course. I couldn't hear anything but my heartbeat pounding, pounding, pounding in my ears.

Quickly, he ran over to us. He was so fast, so nimble. We were rising in the air, our car was swinging, and Axel was leaping. He jumped, grabbing hold on the Ferris wheel, right in front of me.

He laughed.

I threw him an angry glare.

He laughed harder.

Before we could rise much higher, the ride operator slammed her fist against the emergency off button, leaving our car shaking and Axel hanging there like an idiot.

Great.

"Princess," he cooed, "Why haven't I seen you in so long?"

"Wait, you know this psycho?" Demyx asked, tapping my shoulder, impatient for an answer.

"Yeah," I groaned, "I know him."

Axel pulled himself up higher, and I watched as his muscles bunched and released, tensing underneath his lightly sweating skin. I tried to look away, but my eyes were fixed upon the sex god in front of me. I guess that's why I had fallen for him long ago. His charms entranced me, in both body and mind.

I shuddered as the memories sang their song in the spaces of my mind. _He grabs my thighs, kisses my neck, whispers his promises in ear, I shiver, I want him, I want lust, I want love. _I shook my head and opened my eyes. Demyx still looked flabbergasted, his eyes searching mine for answers. I ignored him.

"What do you want, Axel?" I groaned.

"You're going to go out with me."

"No, I'm not."

"Yes, you are."

"Axel, leave me alone."

"I'll let go if you don't," he threatened, releasing the iron-tight hold of his left hand. His right arm shook, the muscles contracting as he struggled to hold his body up.

"Just go out with him!" Demyx pleaded, his hand latched onto my wrist, his nails clawing into my tender skin with anxiety. Little did Demyx know- Axel didn't have the guts to let go of the metal bar. Just like he hadn't had the guts to break up with me properly the last time. Asshole.

"No," I said resolutely, crossing my arms in front of my chest. I smirked, my eyes glared, and Axel only smiled.

I watched as his fingers loosened their hold one by one, slipping away from the slick metal. Like slow motion, he fell. I could hear the screams of the people watching before they had even released their cries from their fear-coated throats.

"No!" I shrieked, forcing my restrained body to stand in the tiny Ferris-wheel car. My thighs pushed up painfully against the padded bar, the skin rubbing uncomfortably, like fire scorching my flesh. My arm struggled to reach down to grab his hand, to save his life. It felt like it was going to pop out of its socket. Kind of like how my heart felt.

He wasn't supposed to let go.

He wasn't supposed to do it. I didn't think I could bear watching him die in front of me.

But before I could say another word, he miraculously landed on a bar below us, his knee colliding with another one. I winced. The crowd gasped. Was that the sound of a bone breaking? He hissed through gritted teeth as he steadied himself again, the agony resounding. He gasped, then looked up.

His eyes were glazed with the tears of his pain. My heart broke again.

"I won't catch myself next time," he promised me, that daredevil smile back in its rightful place. I believed him. I wasn't going to take that chance.

I knew he was going to burn me again. When you play with fire, you get burned. But I knew deep down that I couldn't resist Axel dying. My heart couldn't take it. I loved him too much.

"Fine, I'll go out with you," I grimaced. Was I betraying Sora? No. No, this was just a date. A stupid date, only agreed to because Axel was going to kill himself otherwise. I hated how he could control me like this.

"I don't like that attitude," he yelled up at me. I couldn't feel my arm. Demyx was still squeezing too tightly. "You have to _want_ to go out with me."

"I want to go out with you," I mumbled, my cheeks blazing with the flush of betrayal.

"What did you say? I couldn't hear you!"

"I want to go out with you!" I cried, my eyes beginning to well up with tears.

"Great," he said, "I'll see you next Saturday at nine."

The ride operator finally recovered from the shock of the spectacle taking place in front of her, and slowly, the wheel reversed its circuit, sending our shaking car back down the ground.

Before I could speak, before I could slap him for scaring me like that, Axel had run off into the crowd of the carnival. Jerk.

I shook my head, feeling way too discombobulated. I grabbed onto Demyx for support as we stepped off the ride.

I couldn't believe I had agreed to go out with him again.

I knew better than that.

"What about Sora?" Demyx said softly as he sat me down on a bench. I took a deep breath and rested my chin on my fists.

As if the whole event hadn't happened, the crowd walked past us normally. Small children were skipping past, clutching huge tubs of cotton candy to their chests. Their faces were covered in the sickly sweet substance, the range of colors different for each child.

I saw couples holding hands, giving hugs, kissing lips.

"Olette, I really wanted to get you the robot," a younger boy cried as he walked past us. His black hair was in a poof over his head in a style that wasn't really… in… style. Like it was from the future, or something. "I mean, the robot is definitely cooler. And if I had just thrown it a _little_ bit closer to that last bottle, I could have gotten it. God, I can't believe I couldn't get it. You know what'd be cool? It would just be _so cool_ if I could like, go back in time or something. So I could run behind the curtain and tip it over myself. Then I could have gotten you the awesome robot-"

"Wilbur, I love it," the girl exclaimed, "Don't worry!" She hugged a stuffed bear, and her wide green eyes sparkled. She gave him a peck on the cheek, and he blushed.

A pang of guilt, grief, anger stuck my heart. _What about Sora? _That was so very reckless of me. Sora and I were happy. Axel had broken my heart, and Sora had put it back together. (I hated the humpty dumpty analogies, but they fit me so well.) I should have just let Axel drop to his death.

Before I knew it, the couple was gone.

I closed my eyes, and folded my hands.

"I just don't know, Dem," I admitted. "I can't tell Sora about what happened. He'd be so upset."

Demyx sat on the bench next to me, wrapping his arm around my shoulders with a friendly squeeze. I wasn't expecting him to give me any form of a plan. But he did.

"Okay, so you'll go out with this Axel guy this Saturday, right? And you just won't tell Sora… and then-"

"And then what, Dem?" I snapped as I threw my hands up in the air, exasperated. "He'll just do it again. Play with my heart, and throw me aside, cause problems in my life and burn me." Demyx was silent. After a few tense moments, I sighed. "Sorry," I apologized. "It's not your fault."

"How about I take you home?"

"No, no. We need to find Fuu. Let's get you your woman, lover boy."

He smiled and stood, offering his hand to help me up. I took it gratefully, and tried to push the event out of my mind. It was hard. All I could think of was Sora, stuck at work. He had been so upset he wasn't able to come with me. And when my mind wasn't on Sora, it was focused on Axel entirely.

"No, you really should go home, Kai. It's already ten, and I can… I'll just woo her later."

"You said… woo. I can't believe you just said that," I giggled, throwing my head back.

Demyx smiled as he gave me a light shove. "Let's just go."

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><p>Demyx had dropped me off in front of my house, and I stumbled through the darkened lawn as my hand rifled through my purse to find my keys. My fingers briefly touched the cool metal, and I snatched them up. Demyx was still parked in the street, waiting to make sure I made it inside okay.<p>

I lived in a decent part of town, so I was never really afraid. Sure, there was the hobo-hut two blocks down the road, but I'm sure the deranged man was nice enough if his bloodstream was jacked up on plenty of heroin.

Naminé, however, my younger sister by two years, was still terrified of being alone at night. To be honest, she disliked being alone in general. When I was younger, her clinginess irked me to no end. I just wanted my privacy, my space, my life, and Naminé refused to give it to me. She was always following me around, like my own personal shadow lurking in the background.

But as I matured, I learned to give up the grudge and deal with it. She was my little sister, and I loved her. After all, she was the only family I had.

It seemed that after our parents had died, we grew incredibly close. It was ironic that Roxas, Sora's cousin, only grew close to him after he moved in to live with their uncle Cloud and aunt Aerith. They, too, had to cling to the only family they had left and they had grown closer because of it.

Taking things for granted was not something I was going to be doing anytime soon.

Naminé and I had to stick together. I'd never leave her. Ever.

I flipped my set of keys over in my hand, searching for the shiny silver house key. My eyes strained in the darkness to find the right one. I glanced up. The light above the door was out again. I'd have to go buy a new bulb, and the kind for the outside light was expensive.

I groaned, frustrated, but my slim fingers finally felt the key I had been looking for. I opened the door, turned to wave to Demyx, and stepped inside my house.

Naminé and I lived alone. Thankfully, our parents had managed to pay the house off while they were still alive. I was a sophomore at the university in town, and Naminé was a senior in high school. As children, the importance of education had been drilled into our systems, so giving up school was out of the question. We both only had time for part-time jobs. Our house was small. Quaint, you might prefer, but the honest truth is that it was tiny. We couldn't afford anything better.

"Hello?" I called out into the darkness. I took a breath as my fingers searched the wall for the light switch. I promised myself that I was not going to tell Naminé about what had happened either. She hated Axel when I was dating him. Granted, she was only fifteen at the time, but she hated his guts.

It probably had something to do with the fact that he was a jerk and that just so happened to terrify her. Or it probably had something to do with the fact that she was immune to the charm that emanated from his very core. Unlike me.

"Naminé?" I repeated. No response. Confused, I kicked off my shoes and poked my head through the doorway. She was sitting in front of the television, her knees drawn close to her chest. She had wrapped my pink fleece blanket around her shoulders, and she was clutching it tightly to her body. The lights were off, and her features were only illuminated by the strange colored glow of the television set. She was watching the news, of all things.

"Nam?" I said, and she finally turned around at the sound of my voice. Her bangs had fallen in her eyes, a distinct shade of forget-me-not blue. She looked empty… broken. "Are you okay? Did something happen to you?" I asked. The words felt odd as they escaped my mouth. Distant, somehow. She didn't respond, but turned back to the television, her eyes fixated completely on the pretty newscaster woman.

The television was loud, but I ignored the musical voice resounding from the speakers. I watched Naminé. She sat completely still, completely silent. It was unnerving.

"Naminé?" I tried one last time. No response. No reaction. What the hell was her problem? I took off my jacket and threw it, aiming for the sofa. It collided with the back cushion and tumbled to the cold linoleum floor. I groaned as I bent over to pick it up, intending to replace it where I had thrown it.

"Kairi," Naminé finally said softly. I dropped my jacket, and it fell to the floor again, flopping against the fake tiles. Her voice was as soft as the whisper of wind. "I'm scared."

She always felt nervous when I left the front door unlocked. I rolled my eyes and retraced my footsteps, making sure I had locked the door on my way in. My hand reached for the latch, but I stopped. I had already locked it.

I walked back into the living room, bending down next to Naminé. My hands balanced my weight on my crouched knees, my shoulders shrugged in the air. My long red hair flipped down over my shoulders, fluttering in front of my face. "Just tell me what's wrong," I said, frustrated. Wordlessly, her index finger rose up and pressed against her pale pink lips.

I stared at Naminé and followed her fixed gazed the faintly glowing screen. I sat next to her, crossing my legs. I focused my senses and opened my ears.

"President Leonhart is currently in an emergency meeting to decide our next actions," the newscaster stated. She tapped her stack of papers against her desk with an annoying click. A tendril of loose brown hair escaped her ponytail and fell against her face. She was so caught up in what she was reading, she couldn't move the hair away. "While we won't know what has been decided until the president makes his public address, we will keep you updated on what we do know at this time."

The screen blackened for a short moment, and the newscaster disappeared. It then shifted to a shot of inner Port Royal, our busiest merchant city on the western coast of the Nation. The word 'Replay' was glowing. The clock at the bottom of the screen showed that the video was taken about an hour and a half ago. People were bustling about the town, carrying their wares, tucking their wallets back into their pockets. It was incredibly busy for that time of night.

Then the screams began.

The newscaster's voice kept talking, but my ears had long begun to tune out her meaningless words.

The images etched themselves onto my eyes, burning their pictures against my mind. The first missile collided with the water. Groups of fisherman were standing by the shore and were blasted aside by the explosion. Their bodies soared through the air, smacking against nearby trees or collapsing into the sea.

They were dead before they hit the water.

"Oh, God," I could hear the man holding the camera say. "Oh, my God."

The camera shot panned out, rising up in the air. A second missile descended on the city, its tip colored a raging red as it sunk through the hot, cloudy air. More screams resounded.

My eyes widened.

My hands lifted to my open mouth.

I held my breath.

The second one exploded somewhere in the middle of town. Pieces of buildings shot out from the collision point, sending rock and wood flying through the air. The debris fired through more buildings, through more people. Bodies lay on the ground, the survivors screaming, scrabbling to escape this hell on earth. Mangled limbs were struggling to claw out from underneath piles of dead bodies and debris.

Three missiles, four, five, six…

I lost count as the event unfolded before my disbelieving eyes.

Again, the camera panned out, focusing on a fleet of ships floating off the coast. A missile's course directed towards them, but was barely able to be seen through the smoke. The screams were overpowering, only broken by the crash of another explosion shaking the city. I watched, horrified, my gaping eyes unable to neither close themselves nor turn away from the scene. The men on the ships, a strange combination of what looked like pirates and military men flung themselves overboard, their limbs whipping and twisting as they attempted survival.

The missile hit before they landed in the water.

Giant slabs of burning wood and red-hot steel jetted through the air, smashing into the bodies.

"Oh, my God," the cameraman repeated, his voice shaking. In his shock the man dropped his camera, and it crashed to the ground.

It was out of focus, but I could still see it.

A tiny girl's body lay beaten and broken on the dock. Her blood, spread over the wood, dripped through the cracks between the planks. Her fingers were still tightly wound around the arm of a ragged doll.

I watched, entranced, as fires ravaged the town, swallowing everything in their path. Smoke rose in heavy plumes, blanketing the sky in its heavy cover. Missiles continued to descend, continued to destroy.

Static rolled over the screen, the prickling sound grating against my ears, and then the footage began again.

I forced myself to tear my eyes from the television and look at Naminé. The tears rolled silently down her pale cheeks as she stared at the screen, equally entranced. My arm felt heavy, unusable, but I lifted my hand and covered hers. Her bottom lip trembled as she turned to me. Her mouth opened slightly, but the words were glued to her tongue.

She inhaled, swallowed, and said a single word.

"Why?"

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><p>I leaned over my scalding mug of tea, inhaling the aromatic steam rising from the cup. I let it roll over my face, slipping into my pores. The mug was chipped. It was little crack, just on the edge. Aerith definitely had enough money to replace it, so I merely assumed that it was some keepsake that one of them was unwilling to chuck in the trash bin.<p>

I took another sip, and the burning liquid eased down my throat.

It was my third cup of chamomile, but I was still shaking.

We were all sitting in the kitchen. Just sitting. Sitting and waiting. Waiting for something, anything. Nobody dared speak; nobody dared talk about the terrible event that had taken place.

Naminé sat quietly in the wooden chair next to me, the blanket still draped over her shoulders. She leaned over her art pad, sketching. I didn't know what she was drawing, and I was half-scared to lean over and take a peek. She did it to relieve her stress. It was private. I shouldn't pry.

Roxas and Sora were sitting on the opposite side of the table, fear clouding their vision, making it unable for them to focus. I wanted to comfort them, but I couldn't get any words to fall from my mouth. I couldn't bring my body to move.

I glanced up. Aerith was leaning against the counter, and her long, thick braid had been thrown over her shoulder. It seemed she was the only one who had been capable of changing out of their pajamas that morning. However, thin tendrils of hair had haphazardly escaped the confines of her braid, forming a halo of sorts around her head. A blank expression shadowed her otherwise beautiful features. She turned towards the counter, poured another cup of tea, and slid it onto the kitchen table for anyone who was willing to drink it.

As she leaned across me, I saw that her cheeks were streaked with dried tears, hints of last night's makeup still sticking underneath her eyes.

It was obvious that she had cried herself to sleep.

The television was on in here, muted. A different newscaster was speaking, but I couldn't focus on what he was talking about. I couldn't focus on the images that were being displayed on the screen.

I took another sip of tea, and my eyes fluttered back to Sora. He glanced at me, his bright blue eyes sparkling with the tears that he was refusing to cry. They shone like rare sapphires sparkling in the sunlight.

Aerith stepped out of the kitchen wordlessly, her feet padding quietly against the tile. She refused to let us see her cry. I knew that's why she was leaving. Naminé scratched her pencil against the drawing pad. Roxas buried his face in his arms. Sora reached for the mug of tea.

The news channel began to replay the footage that I had already seen countless times. The images of Port Royal being destroyed burned against my eyes.

Cloud was there. Cloud had been in Port Royal. And nobody had heard from him. They had tried his cell phone numerous times, and it went straight to voicemail every time.

He was dead, most likely.

I sighed and closed my eyes, hoping he was okay. There was still the slightest chance that he had survived, but I doubted it.

I opened my eyes and watched as a single tear managed to escape from Sora's eyes, sliding down his cold cheek and collecting at the corner of his mouth. I couldn't take it anymore. I couldn't just watch him break down like this and not do anything about it.

I stood, and the noise from my chair screeching against the tile was overwhelmingly loud compared to the near silence we had been suffocating in for the past hour or so. Naminé gasped at the sudden sound. All three of them looked up at me standing there, their sad eyes staring at me. Wordlessly, I grabbed Sora's hand, locking his fingers in between mine. His hand was cold, moist. Clammy.

His lack of resistance sent the message. He needed me. Just like I had needed him when my parents died a year ago. He needed me now.

Gently, I led him up the stairs of their house. Our footsteps sounded unnaturally loud as they hit the carpet. We walked past the first door in the hallway, Cloud and Aerith's room. The door was shut, but it wasn't nearly thick enough to muffle the sounds of her crying.

Sora's room was the second door, across from Roxas'. We stepped inside, and Sora let go of my hand as he walked forward and sat on his unmade bed. I turned, shutting the door, making sure that it was shut noiselessly.

Pivoting back around with my arms crossed over my chest, my heart broke as I saw him sitting there. He held his head in his hands, his fingers painfully tugging on his thick locks of hair. I took a breath and forced my feet to move to him.

I plopped down on the bed, and my thigh pressed closely against his. His hands dropped down from his face with a flop, and I took them in my own, kissing his fingertips gently.

He looked up.

He looked… broken.

My arms slid around his neck, my skin tingling as my hands plunged their way into his mess of hair. I didn't have to do anything else. He broke in my arms, and his face fell against my chest. I pulled him close, held him against my body, stroked his hair, kissed his head.

And he just cried.

He cried so hard.

I had never seen him like this. Ever. It was strange to me, because Sora was usually my optimistic go-getter. It was one of the reasons why I loved him so much. And holding him, pulling him in my arms, watching him break down, wasn't something that I thought I'd ever have to do.

I shifted my weight and lied back, my head settling comfortably on his pillow. His body moved with mine. He couldn't let go of me, just as I couldn't let go of him. I pulled him closer to me, tightening my grip around his shoulders, and his face ended up pushed against my bosom. His fingers dug into my back, and as each sob racked his body, his fingers grasped my shirt tighter.

"Shhh," I cooed, gently stroking his bangs away from his face, revealing shining blue eyes, laced with dripping eyelashes. He snuggled into my body, sobbing heavily, but I couldn't stifle him. I kissed his forehead, and tightened my hold on him.

We lied there silently for a while, and the minutes rolled by. Every once in awhile, Sora would calm down and stop sobbing for a few seconds. But then as soon as he had stopped, he would start up again, his tears running afresh, much stronger than before.

I kept my eyes open wide as I stared at my broken boy, clinging to me as hard as he could. No matter how stubborn I was, trying to be the strong one, trying to pull Sora back together, I couldn't keep my own tears back. They cascaded down my cheeks as I cried for Sora. And as the moisture streaked my face, I took a deep breath, trying to calm myself down before I even attempted to calm Sora. When I finally got my emotions under control, I inhaled, and began to sing a lullaby.

The melody sounded rough and unpolished as the notes poured from my lips. I wasn't a singer like Demyx, but it was the only way I knew I could calm him down. "Dearly Beloved", my favorite lullaby, always seemed to be able to relax me.

Sora shuddered in my arms as one final sob racked his body. He had finally cried himself out. I hugged him fiercely.

"Kairi," he finally spoke as he rolled over, staring at the ceiling blankly. His voice cracked. I covered his hand with mine, rubbing comforting circles against his skin with my thumb. Another tear escaped, the sparkling droplet falling down onto his plaid sheets.

"I'm here, Sora," I said. He tried to smile, and his lips quivered as they curled up slightly. His cheek dimpled lightly, but it was impossible for the smile to reach his eyes. "I'm here," I repeated. He inhaled and closed his eyes. I pulled him tighter in my embrace, wishing all the space between us would just go away, so he could be right here, right with me.

"I don't think I can do it again. I… I… I can't lose another dad," he squeezed my fingers. "I just… can't."

I knew this was the reason. My heart kept telling me, but my mind was just refusing to listen to it. I remembered when Sora told me why he was living with his aunt and uncle. I remembered it very well.

We had been lying on his rooftop, stargazing and wasting a late summer night together. Acorns had been digging into my back, and the shingles had been incredibly warm from sitting in the sun all day, but lying next to Sora, cuddling under his old Buzz Lightyear blanket… had just felt so right.

"My mom died giving birth to me," he had told me, out of the blue. I had looked up at him, and his eyes had been poised to the moon high above, illuminating his face with an unnaturally white glow on his tan skin. Without any prompting, he had told me everything. And even now, when I thought about it and how much Sora had suffered, it made my chest hurt.

His father had raised him alone. Sora had described it to me as being incredibly hard, living just the two of them, but he wouldn't trade his childhood for anything. He had loved his dad so much.

But when Sora had turned fourteen, his dad got really sick. Sora had tried his hardest trying to care for his father, but eventually, he became too sick for Sora to take care of him.

The doctors couldn't find what was wrong in time. Hospital visit after hospital visit. A new diagnosis each week.

And a year later, his father died.

The only family he had left was his mother's youngest brother, Cloud. Cloud was young. He had only been married for about two years. But he took Sora in. And both Cloud and Aerith grew to love him.

He became Sora's father, or, at the very least, a father figure. Sora loved him. He loved him so much.

And now he could be… he could be dead, just like Sora's first father.

"We're not sure of anything right now," I said, my voice sounding incredibly distant, way too harsh for the situation. I didn't know what else to say, all I could tell him was the truth. We just didn't know. Cloud could be dead, but he could be alive.

However, watching the bombing replay over and over again was not the most optimistic reassurance we could get.

"I know. I know that we don't know," he said. "I just can't help but feeling this way. I don't want to think about it, but it's all I _can _think about."

I reached over, wrapping my arm around his waist.

"I am so sorry," I murmured, my voice muffled into his chest. "I'm so sorry." My head tilted forward, stretching my neck so I could kiss his cheek. He smiled at me, and shook a bit as he fought back another attack from his sobs. He pushed on his hands, sitting up with his back against the headboard. I stood and walked to the window, my fingers running down the cool glass as I stared at the empty road, eager to see Cloud's motorcycle pull up in the driveway.

"Thanks," he said nonchalantly as he pulled his knees up to his chest, "for… you know."

I turned back at him and smiled softly. "No problem. Just returning the favor." He wiped his face with the back of his hand, rubbing his now-dry eyes.

I spun back around. I knew this was only the beginning of the problem, though. Sora had calmed down for now, but if they got any sort of confirmation that he truly was dead, it would hit them hard.

I thought of Aerith, ashamed to show her emotion in front of us. I cringed. When I had watched the footage the first time, I hadn't really thought that it would affect me, personally. I was truly appalled by what had happened, and yes, I was itching to know who was behind the attacks and what the Nation was going to do about it. But I hadn't thought my life would be affected directly.

I reflected back on the night before. Naminé refused to sleep alone in her own bed, so the two of us were squished into mine, our body heat sweltering underneath the covers. I found it impossible to sleep, and I couldn't tell you if it was because Naminé was pressed up against my body, or because I just kept seeing the dead little girl in the back of my mind. Maybe it was a little bit of both.

So I had just lay there the entire night, sweaty and sticky and uncomfortable, with terrifying images refusing to leave me be.

So Sora's call to me at about seven that morning hadn't woken me up. I had already been awake. I had ignored his apologies and had waited patiently on the phone line for his explanation.

"Cloud hasn't come home yet," he had said. I had pictured him on the phone in the kitchen, the green one with the cord, cupping his hand around the mouthpiece as to not disturb anyone else, although I had been positive that both Roxas and Aerith were sitting right beside him. They hadn't been able to go to bed either. Anxiety made that impossible for them.

"I'll be right over," I had told him, promising to make it there as fast as I could. Naminé tagged along, of course, because she adamantly refused to be left alone in the house. I had reassured her that no, we were not going to get bombed. Even though my promises were empty and I really had no knowledge of what had happened or even less of what was _going_ to happen, I had to tell her something. But she still had insisted on coming with me to Sora's.

I walked back to his bed, sitting down as softly as I could without jostling him.

I had thought that this was a horrible event, yes. But I had been sure that it wasn't going to change my life. But it did. It affected me in more ways than I even knew.

A sudden rush of exhaustion seized my body, and I lied back down. As I rubbed my face against Sora's pillow, I inhaled his scent, a smell that was so comforting to me now. My eyes struggled to stay open.

"Go to sleep," Sora said, throwing a blanket over me. "I know you were up all night." I nodded silently. "I think I can go take care of Roxas and Naminé now, so you just stay here. Sleep." I couldn't protest; I was so tired. So I just smiled at him, holding his hand as he stood up from the bed. He tucked me in, kissed my forehead, and whispered a brief good night.

"He could be alive, you know," he said, speaking more to himself than to me as he stepped out the door, one foot just barely in the hallway. "He really could be alive."

I shut my eyes.

He shut the door.

Click.

* * *

><p>I stood in the middle of Port Royal. It was old Port Royal, I knew, because the buildings and shops were still completely in tact and both merchants and customers bustled around busily. I walked past a bakery, loaves of bread and tempting desserts displayed in the window. A wreath lazily hung over the threshold of the door, sparkling with tiny glass ornaments. I smiled. It was Christmastime, my favorite time of the year.<p>

I looked up and grinned at the huge expanse of sky above. Snow tumbled to the ground, blanketing the roofs and streets. I stared up at the sky, pulling my scarf closer to my face, and watched the tiny flakes cascade to earth. It was beautiful.

Then I heard the screams.

Then I saw the missiles.

I gasped and woke, disoriented, my body covered in a light layer of sweat. I peered over the side of the bed, my eyes struggling to find Sora's alarm clock on his bedside table. Did he just not have one? I leaned over and found it impossible to move very far. Sora's arm was wrapped around my waist, pulling my body closer to him.

My peripheral vision caught sight of a red glow across the room. There it was. I should have known. Once Sora actually feel asleep, it was nearly impossible to wake him up. Aerith probably made him place the alarm clock on the opposite end of the room, so that Sora would have to physically get out of bed before the alarm would shut off.

It was 3:52 in the afternoon.

I didn't want to get up. I wanted to stay here, in this bed, where I could pretend nothing had happened. And that life was still normal. But it wasn't. Not any more.

But it was especially difficult to drag myself out of Sora's warm bed, despite the whole me trying to avoid reality, since Sora refused to let go of me. Apparently I had been in such a deep sleep, I didn't even notice when he had come back in.

He had to have been exhausted too, if I was going to be honest. Like me, Sora had stayed up the whole night, but then his crying episode must have drained him even more. It still hurt me to see him like this.

I kissed his forehead tenderly, and automatically he snuggled closer to me. I scooted away before it would become impossible to escape his hold on me, and slid my legs across the bed and down to the floor.

Leaving his warmth was hard. A fierce chill shot up through my toes to the middle of my calves. I turned back around, tucking in the blankets that had gotten tangled and free around Sora's thin yet incredibly fit body. Sensing my absence, his arm reached up and grabbed his pillow, cuddling his face into its plush surface. His muscles tensed as he pulled it closer to his body.

It reminded me of… no.

I hadn't spent one moment thinking of Axel and how he coerced me into going on a date with him on Saturday. Too much shock from the bombing and a flood of anxiety regarding Sora and his family had prevented it from wiggling its way back to the front of my thoughts. And now it hit me.

I rushed out of Sora's room, feeling guilty that I was even standing in the same room as my innocent boyfriend. I shut the door behind me, feeling sick, guilty, like a traitor. I had to find a way to get out of this. My hand rose up to my head and my fingers rubbed against my temple before running through my thin red locks to tuck them behind my ear.

I sighed.

I'd just have to get Demyx to come. I'd make him. And if he didn't agree at first, I'd throw myself off a Ferris wheel. That freaked him out enough that I could bend his will to do anything I wanted. And besides, I was sure that he was dying to take Fuu somewhere. Actually, I wasn't even sure where Axel was planning on taking me. Thinking back on all the places he used to take me, I dreaded the moment when I was going to find out. Hell, I dreaded the rest of the night.

I hated how he still had the power to control me like this.

I ambled back through the hallway, my cold, bare toes padding gently on the thick, plush carpet. Aerith's door was still firmly shut. I hoped that she had calmed down. Hopefully she, too, had let sleep take her.

Thankfully, none of the stairs creaked as I trudged down them. My body still felt fatigued, and I knew I needed to get more sleep, but at least I was able to somewhat function now. I peered over the railing as I padded down the last few steps.

I saw a pair of small feet flopped over the arm of the old sofa, its toes curling back and forth. I walked closer, and my hands found their resting place against the back of the couch.

I had to stifle a laugh.

Roxas was lying on the couch, fast asleep. Naminé snuggled in his strong arms, her legs just barely dangling off the edge. I felt wrong watching as Roxas' face switched from angry and upset to bearing the lightest of smiles. Naminé's face was blank and expressionless. She looked peaceful, although I knew that when she woke, she wouldn't be at all.

I knew Roxas liked Naminé. She was a very likeable girl, after all. Sweet. Pure. Innocent. But I thought his fondness for her ended at friendship. I was proven wrong, apparently, by the tight, protective hold he had trapped her into. I just didn't know her feelings for him.

If Cloud really was dead (please, no), they were going to need to rely on one another. It was impossible to escape that fact.

My hands dropped from the couch, fingertips slipping down the worn material as they fell. I pivoted around, stepping into the kitchen. My mind buzzed. There were just too many things to think about, to ponder. I needed something to wake my body up, yet calm my mind. Did they even make something like that?

I walked towards the kitchen, planning on rummaging the pantry until I found something that would suffice.

Stepping inside, I gasped.

Aerith was back in the kitchen, her back facing me. She was sitting in the old armless kitchen chair, the odd-one-out. Sora had told me once that it was her favorite chair in the entire house because it was old, the paint was chipping off, and it tilted to the left. He could never understand it, but I could tell why she cherished it so much because I loved it as well. It had a story.

I leaned against the doorjamb, crossing my arms over my chest. My fingers fiddled as they tugged on the fabric of my faded shirt.

"Hi," I said, afraid that my voice was going to be too loud and was going to frighten her, but she seemed unfazed by my entrance. "Aerith? You should be sleeping."

Without turning around to look me in the eye, she spoke so quietly that my ears strained to hear her words. "The President is giving his address at four. I'm going to listen to it." She sounded terrible, like some other person had implanted themselves into Aerith's body. Her voice was usually sweet, melodic.

It sounded dead.

"Can I watch?" I asked as I pulled back one of the kitchen chairs with arms. She didn't respond, but she wasn't giving any sign of objection, so I took it as a yes. I sat next to her, trying to understand what she was going through. It would be outrageously difficult for me to be optimistic if Sora had been there, in Cloud's place. I would have refused to listen to reason, so I didn't try to argue with the overly calm woman beside me. Her nimble fingers weaved a pink ribbon through her thick braid, her nerves best settled by being busy rather than just sitting around. We waited for the television to start airing the speech, watching the clock in silence, desperately eager for four o' clock to arrive.

Because once the president gave his speech, I was sure we would know what the reasoning was behind all this.

I stood back up and got myself a glass of ice water. Aerith declined when I asked if she needed anything. She didn't need water. She didn't need anything that I could give her. She needed Cloud.

The channel that the television had been set on announced that the president would begin his speech shortly, and after three seconds or so of a blank screen, he was on. It wasn't hard to recognize the Nation's president, Mr. Squall Leonhart. A thin, yet very distinguishable scar carved its way across the bridge of his nose, marking him as the man we all looked up to, that we depended on. When he was first elected (it had to have been less than a year ago), some people criticized him for it. It said it made him look weak, vulnerable- not something that the Nation needed.

I thought it made him look brave. After all, he was an able foot soldier when he was younger. He had gotten it while fighting in the military many years before.

Leonhart made eye contact with the camera, shuffling his papers. He looked awkward standing there on his podium, flashing lights illuminating his face erratically. Public appearances weren't his strong suit, but he was a good leader, in my opinion. The First Lady, Rinoa Heartilly, took his hand, giving him the confidence to commence his speech.

"This is a very sad day," he began, the words drawling slowly out of his mouth. I grasped my glass for something to hold onto, my fingers freezing from the coldness. Aerith was immovable. "And I give my most humble apologies to the people of Port Royal and to those people around the Nation who may have lost loved ones last night."

Aerith gasped, fighting back another wave of well-deserved tears.

"'Why?' some of you might ask, 'Why did this happen to our lovely Nation?' The answer is simple, yet not something that I wish were the truth. Kingdom Hearts, our friend and neighbor across the sea, has decided to invade our country."

"No," I mumbled, unable to stay silent. "God, no."

"The Kingdom has been our loyal friend for many years. This is true. But unbeknownst to us, their leader, King Ansem, passed away many weeks ago. King Ansem was… a friend and ally." Leonhart stopped, trying to collect himself. "His son, Prince Xemnas, has now taken over the throne. My most trusted information network has told me that Prince Xemnas is not in his right mind, and that a hungry desire for the ultimate control has clouded his judgment. He has attacked our Nation. He wants control of us, and he will do anything to take it for himself and for the Kingdom.

"Their military is fierce and well-trained. We must not let old friendships get in the way of protecting those we love. Our home is being threatened, and we _will_ fight back." He paused. "The Kingdom will be sorry they ever thought they could conquer us, because the Nation _will not fall_!" he cried, his voice resounding loudly and powerfully. The audience threw their voices up in cheers, clearly ready to fight back for the suffering that the Nation had already faced. The camera switched views back and forth from various people in the crowd, waving the Nation's flag and screaming their support for Leonhart's decision.

We would fight back, and we would _win_, I told myself confidently.

"So the Kingdom is behind it," a voice behind us said quietly. Naminé stood in the doorway, her hand resting on the frame. Roxas stood behind her, and it looked as if he was grappling with the decision to grab my sister's hand or not.

"Sorry we woke you two," I said, standing up from the table, nearly tipping over my glass.

"No," Roxas said calmly, "I wanted to know." Naminé nodded in agreement, and I noticed that her eyes were still slightly red and puffy from all the crying she'd be doing. She sniffed and rubbed her eyes.

"Where's Sora?" she asked me.

"Sleeping," I replied as I stretched my arms above my head. I had half a mind to go back to sleep, to curl under the covers with Sora again. I leaned against the kitchen wall and crossed my arms over my chest. Maybe a shower would be a better idea. I felt a little gross.

But what I really needed to do was call Demyx. I hadn't talked to him about anything that had happened.

And besides, I needed to trick him into accompanying me with Axel, wherever the hell we were going, and I didn't want Sora to listen in.

Naminé had begun to bustle around the kitchen, washing dishes at the sink. Roxas sat down next to Aerith, putting his arm around her and giving her a gentle squeeze. I stepped backwards, out of the kitchen and into the front hall, where my purse was. Reaching down into my bag, my fingers snatched my cell phone and pulled it out.

As I waited for Demyx to pick up his phone, I snuck into the bathroom, making sure to lock the door behind me. Nobody was getting any hint of what was happening. Nobody. I lowered the toilet seat cover and sat down on the plush, carpet-like padding that I presumed Aerith insisted on protecting the seat with. It was pink, after all. The only woman in the house had to get her way sometimes.

"Hey, Kai," Demyx answered after the third ring. It was evident that he was eating something; his voice was a stuffed mumble.

"Hi, you okay?" I whispered, shielding the mouth of the phone with my cupped hand. I turned even farther away from the door as I crossed my ankles, one over the other.

"Okay? I'm great!"

"How… how could… Demyx, you did see the news, didn't you?"

"News?"

Of course he hadn't. What had I been thinking? Demyx lived in his own world, not everyone else's.

"Okay, never mind for now. What's so great about your life right now that you can ignore the world around you?" I asked. I grabbed an emery board on the bathroom counter and started filing my nails. It was strange to me. It was strange that I knew somebody- one of my best friends, really- who had no idea what had happened. He was still living a normal life, oblivious to the tragedy that had plagued the Nation, to the new resolve to fight back against the Kingdom, to fight for the innocents who had lost their lives.

I needed to tell him, yes, but I was just going to pretend that everything was normal for a little while. It made me feel better when I created this magically painted image in my mind, a stark contrast to the reality I was living.

Maybe things would go back to normal soon. Eventually.

I still had to attend classes, I still had to watch out for my sister, I still had to go on that horrible date with Axel and relive those memories that Sora had erased for me. That's normal, right?

"Can you believe it?" Demyx exclaimed loudly into his mouthpiece. Ah, I hadn't been paying any attention to the story he was telling. Shit.

"Wait, what? Repeat the whole thing."

Demyx groaned. He hated when I spaced out, which happened to be something that I did often.

"_So_," he began, stretching out the syllable, "after I dropped you off last night, I was driving home and passed the carnival again-guess who I saw walking on the side of the road alone?"

"Who?"

"Fuujin!"

"Um… who?"

"You know… Fuu!" Without leaving me any time for a reaction, he started up again. "So I pulled my car over and rolled down the window. Apparently Seifer and Rai had really pissed her off, or something. The only thing she said about what happened was 'jerks'."

"What an articulate young woman," I joked.

"Hey, she just has a hard time expressing herself." I laughed, and Demyx just ignored me again. "Anyway, I convinced her that I could give her a ride home. And she agreed to go out with me. At least, I think she did. She gave me her number. That counts as something, right? I didn't even have to sing to her."

"Well, congrats, bud." Although Demyx's near obsession with this girl was laughable, I was truly happy for him. He seemed pleased, at least. And it did work out perfectly. "So," I opened, hoping my voice was coaxing enough. "How about you come on double date with Axel and I this Saturday? Bring Fuu along."

"Axel? Who's-"

"Dem, stop being so thick. He threw himself off the freaking Ferris wheel so that he could get my attention."

"Oh, yeah. Crazy psycho."

"Yeah, that's the one. Anyway, I just… I can't do it alone. He scares me. And I can't let anyone else find out. It makes me feel like such a… such a traitor."

"Kairi," he soothed, "it wasn't your fault. He took advantage of your kindness."

"Kindness?" I snorted. "That's not really the word I would use."

"Okay, so he took advantage of your lingering affections and the burning flame of passion that refuses to be snuffed out?"

I rolled my eyes. "Yeah, that's more like it." I couldn't even tell if I was being sarcastic or serious, and that made me feel a little bit guiltier inside.

He paused. "You know, I'm not so sure we'll go… what if Fuu doesn't like the place that Axel takes you?"

"No, you are coming. My life cannot be made any more miserable right now. I am forcing you to come. I will kill you if you don't come with me." My voice was firm enough, so hopefully Demyx couldn't call my bluff.

"Well, _fudgecicles_, you're not leaving me any room here! I _guess_ we'll go with you," he grumbled. I grinned with my victory tasting sweet as sugar on my lips. "Okay, now get to the point. Why can't your life be any more miserable? What the hell happened?" he asked, sounding rather concerned.

I took a deep breath. It was one thing to live through it, to watch the continuous replays on the television, to let Sora break down and cry on my shoulder, but it was another thing entirely to actually admit that the tragedy had occurred- to admit it out loud and in the open.

"Port Royal… was bombed last night. By the Kingdom."

"What? But… but… _why?_"

"According to Leonhart's press release, the old king had died a few weeks ago, and his son, the new king, _basically_ is a megalomaniac who's hell-bent on conquering the Nation."

"Are you serious?"

"Why would I be telling you if I wasn't serious!" I snapped, unaware that I was practically screaming. Demyx was silent, contemplating, unable to voice his thoughts. "Sorry I yelled," I finally apologized. I uncrossed my ankles, and my toes felt chilled by the cold bathroom tile.

"I just can't believe it."

"I know. And what's worse is that Cloud was there. In Port Royal."

"God, I'm sorry."

"No, no. Don't apologize to me. I'm just worried about Sora and his family. It's been awful; they don't even know if he made it or not."

"Sorry," he repeated.

Footsteps pounded outside my door, and somebody was shouting. A door slammed.

"Hey, I think Sora's awake, so I'm gonna go."

"Okay. See you Saturday. Bye."

I hung up, snapping my cell phone shut. The bad habit that my father had had of never saying goodbye over the phone had passed onto me. I was still scolded for it, even though I was nineteen and long passed the point of learning perfect manners. Naminé constantly berated me for it.

But I just hate saying goodbye.

After a quick look in the mirror, tucking loose tendrils of hair behind my ears, I unlocked the bathroom door and walked out into the living room. Aerith and Roxas were outside, standing on the front porch, their faces poised towards the street's end. Naminé stood at the window, her hand brushing away the curtains so she, too, could have a good view.

She turned around, her face splitting with a smile.

"Aerith… she heard his motorcycle," she exclaimed, and it was all that I needed.

I grabbed the stair railing, and my arm felt like it was being ripped out as I yanked myself as fast as I could up the stairs. I raced up clumsily, my legs moving as fast as they could possibly go. I tripped on the last step, my foot catching on the carpeted ledge and I fell, catching myself by scrabbling against the bare wall. But it was really my knee plowing into the floor that stopped me from falling on my face.

"Sora!" I cried as I jumped back up, unfazed by my klutziness. "Wake up! Wake up!" I flew into his room and slammed his door open, my hair blowing around my face in a tangled mess. The door smashed into his wall, but he kept on sleeping. I rushed up to his bed and shook his shoulders. His head flopped around lazily, but his eyelids finally cracked open.

"Mmm," he moaned as he lay back down. "More sleep. Less shake-a-baby syndrome."

"Cloud's on his way!" I shouted as I yanked his hand up within my own, trying to tug him out of his bed.

His clear blue eyes shot open, and a twinkle of pure ecstasy danced in his vision. Hand in hand, we soared down the steps and jetted towards the door. Sora threw it open and sprinted outside to stand next to his family. I smiled and walked up beside him, the grass tickling my toes.

When Naminé first told me that Aerith had heard Cloud's motorcycle, I couldn't hear a thing. But now, standing outside in the crisp autumn air, the rumblings of the motorcycle's engine reverberated distinctly. How could I have missed it?

Out of the corner of my eye, I saw Roxas taking Aerith's hand in his own. Their hope shone like a beacon in the night. It was so strong, so powerful. Sora threw his arm over Roxas' shoulders. I looked back at Naminé in the window and smiled.

He was a blur at the end of the street, black clothes matched with his classic black motorcycle. It grumbled closer, and he sped towards the house faster and faster, louder and louder. He screeched to a stop and shoved the kickstand down with his foot and leapt off the seat in one solid, cool motion.

It was really him.

He had survived.

He looked weary and beaten, but he had survived.

I looked on as Cloud sprinted across the lawn, pulling Aerith into his arms, kissing her cheeks, her neck, her hair. Her knees buckled underneath her, and she collapsed into his chest, bawling. He held her closer, tighter, nuzzling his face into her hair. She gasped for air as she wept, howling and wailing against his chest, the tears gushing from her eyes like a broken faucet.

I had never seen someone cry so hard. Never in my life.

"I was so worried," she whimpered as she fell to pieces in his arms. He caught her and tilted his forehead down, pressing it against hers. His eyelids fluttered closed. Aerith's fingers ran a course down his chest, as if he wasn't sure he was really there, as if this was all a sick dream of hers.

"I'm sorry. I'm so sorry."

They sat in the damp lawn, letting the dew and the mud freely soak into their clothing. A grass stain already contrasted with Aerith's pink skirt from when she fell down to the ground, when she fell into Cloud's strong body. Her hands struggled to find a resting place; they seemed to be flying over his body, making sure that he was whole and in tact.

I felt my eyes welling up with tears, and I fought back to control my emotions. Sora linked his fingers with mine and held them tight. I glanced up at him as he allowed his emotions to run freely, the tears flowing gently and his smile glowing like the rising sun. Naminé had finally run out of the house, leaving the front door wide open, swinging back and forth on its hinges like a broken gate.

But nobody cared, really, or paid any attention to it.

We were all just too happy to see Cloud alive and well, back with the family.

"Shh," he whispered to his wife, stroking her hair back with his hand. He twirled her satiny pink hair ribbon into a tight swirl around his worn index finger. It was almost as if he was linking himself to her, making sure that nothing else would tear him away from his love. "I'm here." Aerith burst into tears again, clutching at his torn shirt, her fingers wrapped firmly around the material. "I'm here," he repeated, his voice low yet comforting.

Roxas approached them cautiously. I'm sure he was still in the same dream-like state as Aerith. He knelt down next to the couple and put his hand on Cloud's protected shoulder. With his free hand, he grabbed Roxas by the collar and pulled him near.

"Hey, what about me?" Sora complained as he stomped to them with his fists on his hips. Naminé turned towards me, showing a tiny smile nearly hidden by her long bangs. Sora continued his mock tantrum: "I was worried too!"

He plopped down in the wet grass next to his family, holding onto them with all that he had. Aerith started laughing as she cried, her eyes streaming with tears and shining with mirth. Cloud hugged his two sons. Aerith pulled away from Cloud for a moment, kissing both Roxas and Sora on their heads and hugging them tightly. Her boys held on tight. All three of her boys.

Aerith scooped Cloud's face in her hands, her bright green eyes scanning his features as if she hadn't seen him for years. His face was dirty, covered thickly in scratches and cuts, the blood dried and crusty on his skin. Her thin, tiny fingers ran over his cheeks, feeling every bump and crevice, memorizing his face as she had done once before.

Cloud stood up from the grass, helping Aerith up by her hands. He crouched down and lifted her high into his arms, and her legs dangled off his forearm. It was the traditional way that a groom would hold his new bride in our culture. Aerith gasped loudly as he lifted her up, spinning her around. Her braid spun around as they did, whipping through the air. Her hair ribbon snapped with the wind as he twirled her in his arms. Cloud smiled, and Aerith's high-pitched laughter rang through the air like bells.

It wasn't like anything I had ever seen before. Crying and laughing mixed together in a strange combination. Fear overridden by happiness. Joy shining through the darkest moments in our lives.

Neighbors in other houses along the street peeled away their window curtains, trying to catch a glimpse of the scene. I watched as the three little girls who lived across the street peered over to us, their eyes barely able to see above the windowsill. Yuna, Rikku, and Paine (if I could remember their names correctly) were triplets who looked nothing alike but had a common habit: spying on people.

My gaze whirled back to Cloud and Aerith in front of me.

"It hurt so bad," Aerith said as she pressed her body into his chest tenderly, inhaling his familiar scent, "being without you."

The sun hung on the precipice of the horizon, casting its multicolored hues across the earth. Roxas and Sora stood up and began walking back towards Naminé and I, appearing to want to let their aunt and uncle have their moment together. The orangey pinkness of the sun highlighted their silhouettes beautifully. Sora took my hand in his again, pressing his lips against my cold fingers. I turned and looked back one last time before we entered the house.

Cloud brushed his mouth against Aerith's pale, still quivering lips.

I turned back around, wiped my burning eyes, and smiled at Sora, the taste of happiness lingering sweetly on my tongue.

xxx

a/n: Reviews are greatly appreciated!


	2. war

We were walking back from our last day of classes for the week. Sora and I both went to the same university in the city (and so did Roxas, but on Fridays, his last class let out a good two hours or so before Sora's and mine did. He had already made his way home). The distance was about a twenty-minute walk, which I was more than willing to take seeing as how the price of parking in a university lot had sky rocketed this past semester. I refused to shell out two thousand munny when I was perfectly capable of walking.

I looked up and stared in amazement at the surge in patriotism that had emerged after the Port Royal attack. Nearly every corporate building had a large Nation flag hanging from its pole in the air, the familiar yellow and pink stripes flashing as the wind snapped the fabric. If there was no flag hanging from a building, posters of the flag cut out from the daily newspaper were smiling from the thick glass windows. People even had slapped a bumper sticker or two onto the backs of their cars.

_God Bless the Nation_, they yelled in bright colors.

Although Naminé's high school had cancelled classes the Tuesday after the attack on Port Royal, the University classes had not. It wasn't like they weren't trying to pretend that the attack never happened. They were trying to get back in the swing of things as fast as possible. I understood that. Really, I did.

But now that Cloud was back, I felt detached from what had happened on Monday.

After all, Traverse Town was on the other side of the country from Port Royal. They were in the balmy southeast, while we were on the rainy northwestern coast. If anything could separate us, it was the distance. Although both cities formed a part of the Nation, our small city seemed so different from that of the port town. And it seemed even more different from the huge metropolis of Twilight Town or from the capital, Radiant Garden.

This distance, this sudden detachment… made me feel like my life was going to be normal.

"Hey, you remember Riku, right? Riku Dangerfield?" Sora asked me as we were standing and waiting for the walk signal. The orange hand shining across the street flashed into a walking white figure, and I hopped off the sidewalk and into the road, shrugging my backpack a little bit higher onto my shoulders.

"Of course I remember Riku!" I smiled, the last memory I had of him sparking in my mind. He, Sora, and I had trekked it out to Destiny Islands for a week on the beach this past summer, as our vacation from work. Naturally, Naminé tagged along as well. It was impossible to forget Riku. It was impossible to forget the lazy days we spent on the un-trodden beaches, soaking up the sun's happy rays. "How could I forget him?"

"I was just asking, just asking. Well, something happened with his mom. I think she decided to start traveling with her new husband, or something. I think he's a military man. So now Riku is moving back with his dad. At least for a few months, I think."

Riku had lived with his mother in Twilight Town for the majority of his life. Sora and his dad had lived in Twilight Town as well when he was a kid, and you know how it is with kids; being neighborhood acquaintances soon transformed into hanging out every day, which, in Sora and Riku's case, bloomed into being best friends.

Riku's parents had divorced when he was a small boy, if I could remember correctly. He only spent time with his father when he was forced to. The obligatory weeklong visits were torture for him as a child. His father was cruel, stern, and serious. I saw an advertisement of his company in a magazine one. His face was slapped on the page, his lips curled up in a sinister grin. His fine, silver hair swung long and free, and his eyes glimmered with anger. I'd never met the man, but the owner of the infamous Dangerfield Industries always sent me some seriously bad vibes. It was no wonder that Riku couldn't get along with him.

When we went to Destiny Islands, he was running away from his father. Avoiding him. He always wanted to run away.

"He's going to want to spend a lot of time with us."

"That's understandable."

"So," he paused, "I hope that's okay?"

I shot him a mock-angry look. "You know, it's not like you have to ask me or anything."

"I just wanted to make sure," he explained with a wave of his fingers. Sora always liked to talk with his hands. It was one of my favorite things about him. "He wants to have a boys night tomorrow, so I'll have to cancel our date."

Date? Tomorrow? Saturday? _My date with Axel was tomorrow._

"We had a date?" I asked. My voice sounded shaky to me. Nervous. I held my breath, and thoughts raced through my head, trying to explain what had happened. Had I really had a date with Sora? And if so, why couldn't I remember it? Usually, I looked forward to our dates together. He'd take me out to dinner, or we'd go see a movie, just like old times. And I forgot.

Had I been so consumed by the attack that I had forgotten?

Or had I been so consumed with thoughts of Axel?

Sora spoke clearly, unaware of my inner turmoil. "Yeah, I was going to surprise you by taking you to that new Thai place that you've been wanting to go to."

My lungs gulped up fresh air, inhaling sweet relief. "Oh, well we can just go there some other time." He nodded. "Besides, it'll be good for you and Riku to spend some quality time together. I'll just hang out with Dem or something." I felt incredibly guilty thinking it (as I felt guilty about the entire situation), but I couldn't believe that circumstances actually worked in my favor. My stomach unclenched, and I took another breath.

I half-wished that things hadn't worked out so sweetly. I half-wished that I would be sitting down at that Thai place tomorrow, the pungently saccharine ginger chicken steaming on my plate, Sora telling me some joke or another. He would struggle to eat with the chopsticks, and his fork would somehow have managed to slip into his fingers by the end of our meal. I would harass him for it, but I'd be kidding, naturally. When he would open his fortune cookie and read it aloud, making sure to hilariously add "in bed" to the end of whatever saying was tucked inside his cookie. _You will have much luck and prosperity… in bed!_

But again, I only half-wished.

"Okay, sweet. It all works out then," he said. I nodded, forcing a smile on my face. "So Riku should be getting to the train station in a few hours, and I'm supposed to be picking him up. His dad, of course, is too busy." His eyes rolled.

We walked the rest of the way to Sora's house (which was between mine and the university) in silence, giving guilt ample time to rear its angry head despite my attempts to suppress it. I felt heavy, my backpack bearing down on my shoulders.

But that wasn't the only weight I carried. Now that Axel was back in my mind, filling its vacant corners, my thoughts pressed on me hard. I felt such mixed emotion. Axel was going to taunt, tempt, and tease me. He was going to touch and toy with me.

He was going to piss me off, and I was going to enjoy every moment of it.

Thankfully, Demyx was on my side (and so was Fuu, I supposed), and I prayed that nobody else was going to be there that would recognize me.

We arrived at Sora's house, and I tried yet again to shove Axel away.

"Okay, so you two want to come over later tonight? I can make some spaghetti or something for dinner," I suggested as I shifted my weight onto my other hip. Sora leaned in and gave me a peck on the cheek. I could never admit it to him because he would make fun of me too much, but his lips brushing against my skin still made my heart flutter.

"Sounds great." He smiled as he pulled away from me. From the corner of the street, a car roared down the road. The engine rumbled loudly, and the car squealed to a stop in front of us. It was a Mustang, lightly coated in dust.

I glanced at Sora, wondering who this stranger was. Sora didn't seem fazed at all. On the contrary, his face lit up as the car door opened. A man stepped out confidently, rising up to his full height. He was tall, with strong shoulders and a broad chest.

"Sora!" he yelled as he walked towards us, his stride long and sure. His black hair was spiked slightly, and the bright afternoon sunlight glistened off the dark locks. His bright azure eyes sparkled with friendliness.

"Zack, what the hell are you doing here?" Sora asked with a genial smirk, his voice dripping with sarcasm. Ah, it was Zack. I had never met him personally, but Sora had told me plenty of stories. "I thought we kicked you outta town a long time ago! We took you down!"

"Nobody can take the famous Zack Fair down," he bragged, winking. "So where's my flower girl? And my soldier boy?"

Sora's eyes shifted to the house, tilting his head towards the garage to get a glimpse of cars, if there were any. "I don't think they're home yet."

"And you are? What are you doing slacking like that?" Zack asked.

I leaned in towards Zack, my hand resting on my hip. "He's a lazy bum," I teased.

"Hey! Two against one is _not_ fair!" Sora complained.

"And neither is three against one," a voice came taunting from the house. I turned, and my eyes were greeted by the sight of Roxas, leaning against the doorframe with his arms crossed over his chest. None of us had noticed him there, observing us.

"Roxas!" Zack cried loudly, his arms outstretched in front of him. "My sidekick!"

Roxas flew from the front porch, running to Zack. He threw himself into the man's chest, and Zack tousled Roxas' dirty blond locks. His fingers scratched his scalp, and Roxas wrapped his arms around his chest in a fierce hug. "Hey, Zack." Roxas' voice was soft and calm, but his face was bright and happy. "Long time no see." Zack bent his knees down, enfolding Roxas' much smaller body in an even tighter embrace.

When Roxas stepped away, his smile was radiant.

"So Rox, do you know when the, uh, parental units are coming home?" Zack asked.

Roxas shook his head. "Why, we're not good enough for you?" he joked. Zack's nose crunched up in faux-disgust.

"I can't believe you'd even _suggest_ that. My own sidekick! How shameful."

Roxas laughed, Sora smiled, and I shuffled about awkwardly. Roxas and Zack began conversing animatedly, their hand gestures flying about and their grins growing ever wider.

"Maybe I should go," I muttered to Sora, my eyes cast down to the grass.

Sora's hand slapped his forehead. The motion left a light pink mark on his skin. The sound stung my ears. "I forgot to introduce you! I'm so bad at that," he admitted.

Zack broke off from his conversation with Roxas. "Yes, who is this _lovely_ lady?"

"This is Kairi DiCasco, my girlfriend," Sora said. I smiled and extended my hand.

"Zack Fair," he introduced himself to me, taking my petite hand within his and giving it a firm yet friendly shake.

"And I'm Sora Hikari!" We all threw him angry looks, our glares completely intolerant of Sora's sarcasm. He ignored us though. "Zack has been a family friend for awhile," said Sora.

"He's was Aerith's boyfriend way back when," Roxas explained to me.

"Hey, 'way back when' makes us sound like we're so old that we're already rotting in our graves!" Zack complained. Then he turned to me, "We dated a few years before she met Cloud. Gosh, I guess that was when we were high school. Anyway, things fell out, but we stayed friends. Even though I'll never forgive Cloud-" His fist rose up, shaking.

Sora rolled his eyes. "He's kidding."

"You only _think_ I'm kidding."

"He's kidding," Roxas repeated as he crossed his arms over his chest.

Zack shrugged his shoulders, putting his hands up in mock-defeat. "Fine, fine, I'm kidding. Well, I better be, Yuffie wouldn't be too happy about that, now would she?" He winked again.

"Yuffie?" I asked.

"His _girlfriend_," Sora clarified, winking at me.

"Hey, almost fiancée!" Zack protested. "You two don't give me enough credit."

Roxas laughed. "You don't even know how you're going to ask her, stupid. I can't give you any credit."

Sora smirked at Roxas. "It's probably because he needs _our_ help, right, Rox?"

"Naturally!"

Zack groaned. "I don't need any help."

"You need help," Sora said.

"And lots of it," Roxas chimed in.

"Well," Zack paused, "Maybe a little… would be nice."

"Ah, that's what I thought," Roxas said, grinning. A grin on Roxas' face seemed foreign and out of place to me. But I guess it was a testament to how much he cared for the man, how important their friendship was.

"Well do you want to take her out to dinner?" said Sora. "Make it a public proposal?"

"Or make it private," Roxas suggested.

Zack's hands rose up to his forehead, and his fingers massaged his temples. "I don't even know, kids. I don't really want to talk about it right now."

I spoke up. "Well, I think that you should do something that interests her. If she likes attention, then you make it public. If she doesn't, then don't. What does she like?"

Roxas and Sora exchanged looks, as if there was some inside joke that I didn't know about.

Zack lifted his eyebrows at me. "She likes pretending that she's a ninja."

"Well what if you took her to that new movie… the one about the boy who has to master the elements and end a hundred-year-long war?"

"She'd love it. I heard the boy is a martial arts _champion_," Sora added.

I nodded. "And then take her back to your place, light some candles, and bingo. Pop the question."

"That _does_ sound like something she'd enjoy," Zack admitted, cracking his knuckles over his head, his arms outstretched.

"Dude, she's gonna be so excited," Roxas said.

"Yeah, she will be," Zack said, now clearly intent on using my plan. Sora clapped his hand lightly on my shoulder.

I smiled and shifted my weight awkwardly as both Roxas and Zack started up again. I coughed. "Um, well, it was really great meeting you, but I need to get home before Naminé does. She hates coming home to an empty house," I explained. Sora nodded. "Besides, I'm sure you guys have a lot to catch up on."

"Oh, well it was nice to meet you too, Kairi," Zack added. "And thanks for the advice."

I smiled politely, amiably. "See you tonight," I said to Sora, and pivoted back to the sidewalk which felt strange and far too hard after standing so long on the soft, mushy grass of their front lawn.

After meeting Zack, I understood things about Roxas a lot more. It made sense to me.

Sora had already explained it all to me awhile back, but I had forgotten. I was just so used to Roxas hiding his emotion, covering his feeling with such a stoic expression that I tended to forget about his past.

"Roxas moved here before me," Sora had told me once. He and I had been dating for a while, and Sora had already told me all about his childhood and about when he moved to live with his aunt and uncle. "He moved here when he was thirteen, and we were fourteen."

Roxas' father had abandoned him and his mother when Roxas was a baby. He had no recollection, no visual image of his biological father in his mind, but he sure had a lot of anger and hatred built up over the years against him. It was understandable, at least to me it was.

It was ironic, though, that a man whom Roxas had never met could affect him so. Even today, Roxas seemed to have an angry undertone to all that he did- his speech, his behavior, even his appearance. Whilst Sora had a content look on his face, a tiny smile on his lips, Roxas seemed to constantly hold a bitter glare, his eyebrows bunched painfully together all the time.

Roxas' mother had tried to raise him, and they had moved all over the Nation. He didn't ever have a home as a child. Not really.

When Roxas was twelve, his mother lost her job. She couldn't get another one, and after a year of struggle, she gave up. Without so much as a heads-up, she dropped her only son off at her brother's doorstep. She abandoned him, and ran off to find a new life somewhere else. Maybe she decided to run off to the Kingdom.

Maybe she decided to run off to heaven.

Either way, Roxas had no clue what had happened. All he knew was that he had been abandoned twice by the two people who never should have done so.

Cloud had just married Aerith, but the two newlyweds found a way to take care the thirteen-year-old Roxas.

"Zack was the one who really helped Roxas," Sora had confided in me. "It was really hard for Cloud and Aerith to have Roxas in their house when they were still getting used to living with each other. So Zack would let Roxas stay over at his apartment every couple of nights, or he'd pick up Roxas and take him to school, or he'd take him to the blitzball game. Roxas loved watching the Aurochs."

In my life, I found that boys look up to their fathers. They turn to them for help, for guidance. Fathers are role models to them. And if Sora had two fathers, Roxas had two as well.

Cloud, of course, was the first.

Zack was the second.

My hand latched onto the doorknob of my side door and pushed it open. Naminé wasn't home from school yet. Thankfully, I had beaten her home. My bag slid down my arm, the tug of gravity pulling it down to the floor.

Almost instantly, I felt a wave of exhaustion coming over me. Fridays always seemed to do that to me. My knees sagged underneath me, and I staggered to the couch. I promised it would just be a rest.

My eyelids drifted closed.

Just a little rest.

The front door opened. The front door closed.

Two sets of footsteps shuffled.

The familiar scent of sausage and green peppers swam over my face.

"This'll be sure to wake her up," I heard Sora say, a chuckle overlapping his words. My eyelids fluttered, but refused to open. The distinct scratching of Naminé drawing on her art pad etched against my eardrums.

"She'll be angry if she wakes up with that pizza box on her face," she noted. My eyes snapped open, and my neck strained to lift my head up as fast as I could. As Naminé had said, Sora stood over me, pizza box in hand. I blinked.

"Sora, please don't drop the pizza on me," I groaned, my head falling back down on the pillow. "And I thought _I_ was supposed to make supper?"

Naminé put down her sketchpad, taking extra care to fold the top cover over everything, pushed her pencil through its metal rings. She placed it in her lap, and her hands rubbed across it, her fingers splayed out delicately. "I didn't want to wake you up," she confessed as she tucked a loose strand of her fine blonde hair behind her ear. Her teeth bit down lightly on her bottom lip. It was a nervous habit of hers- both the hair tucking and the lip biting. But I couldn't possibly figure out why she was so nervous.

"I called after I picked up Riku to tell you that we were coming, but Naminé said you were sleeping. So I picked up a pizza at Luigi's on the way."

"Riku? Riku's here?" I sat up again, this time much more slowly, my eyes shifting around. Riku was leaning over the back of the couch. He lifted a hand in a small wave, and his aquamarine eyes smiled down at me.

I scrambled to get off the couch, and a blanket rippled to the floor. I guessed that Naminé had put it on me while I was sleeping.

"Riku!" I exclaimed, and he pulled me into a hug.

"Hey, Kairi," he said quietly.

I pulled away but kept my hands on his arms. It felt so good to see him. Although I had only spent the one week with him on the Islands, it seemed like we had known each other for much, much longer. "You haven't met my sister yet have you?" I asked.

His eyes flicked up to meet hers. I glanced at Naminé. Her bangs had fallen in front of her eyes, shading her sight from seeing him. Riku stepped away from me, walking over to Naminé.

"Hey, I'm Riku," he said as he extended his hand in front of him. "What's your name?"

Naminé bolted up from the chair, her sketchpad sliding off from her lap to the floor, the pages fluttering. "H-hello," she replied timidly, shakily. "I'm Naminé." Her hand shot out, grabbing his in an awkward, jerky handshake.

"Nice to meet you," said Riku as he stooped down, picking up her sketchbook. Thankfully when it had fallen, it hadn't spilled open, leaking her private thoughts and drawings everywhere. I knew my sister. She would have been so embarrassed. She refused to even show me what she was in the sketchpad. Occasionally she would show me a finished drawing, maybe a watercolor- but never something in progress.

"Here," he said as he handed it to her.

She looped a loose tendril of hair behind her ear and hesitantly took it from him. Her pale pink lips tilted upwards, and her face flushed, casting a warm glow over her cheeks. "Thanks." She pulled it close to her chest.

"No problem. So, uh, you like to draw?"

"Um, yeah." She bit her lip again. My eyes widened.

Riku paused. "Cool."

That was it. _That _was why she was so nervous. It was Riku. It had to be. He was making her so nervous; I couldn't help but smile. Even though Roxas had often showered her with simple affections, she had never reacted like this before. Roxas didn't make her heart race and he cheeks flush like Riku just did.

I couldn't wait to gossip about it with Sora.

"So, now that we got that out of the way," Sora said. "Let's get to some more important business. Namely, eating this pizza."

I snatched the still-warm box from him and began to prance to the kitchen.

"No! My pizza!" he cried, his arms flailing as he tried to grab it back from me.

Sora wrapped his arms around my waist, impeding my movement. I struggled to get free, but he only pulled me closer, his face pressed against my neck. My arms were raised above my head, the pizza box balancing precariously on my fingertips.

"Riku!" Sora yelled, "Save my pizza!"

Riku sauntered over and took it from me with his nimble fingers.

"Your pizza? I think you mean _my _pizza."

Sora released me and bounded towards Riku, Naminé giggled, and I truly believed that life was going to go back to normal.

I took one last swipe of my hair with my brush, and turned away from my mirror to look at Sora. "I think Naminé is crushing on Riku."

Sora pulled his shirt off. "Really?"

"Was it not obvious?" I shook out my hair one last time and climbed into my bed. I pat the empty space next to me, letting Sora know that he could get in whenever he felt like it. "She was blushing every time she let herself look at him. Especially at dinner. She was as red as a cherry!"

He took his cue and walked over to me. "Well, all I could see was that _Riku_ couldn't take his eyes off _her_."

I laughed. "I think this may turn out to be promising."

"It makes me worry about Roxas, though."

"Well, I know he likes her," I said, "But I think he'll be able to get over it."

"Well, he's already really upset right now. I don't think this would be… a good thing for him to know about." He climbed into bed, pulling the blankets over us.

"Okay, hold up. Roxas didn't look upset at _all_ this afternoon."

"Zack left to fight in the war," Sora told me as I snuggled deeper into my bed, pressing my face against his bare chest. "That's why he came by today. He wanted to tell Roxas goodbye."

I propped myself up on my elbow. "Are you serious?"

"Yeah," Sora said, his voice trailing off. He reached over to my nightstand and tugged on the chain for my bedside lamp. Darkness obscured the room.

"Is he… going to be okay?" I asked tentatively and leaned back into him.

"Which one?"

"Well, both."

"Zack said he's supposed to be serving for only a few months before coming home. According to Zack, he'll be back before Christmas. Leonhart intends to end this war against the Kingdom A.S.A.P."

"Aww, so he _will _propose before Christmas," I said with a grin. Sora pulled me closer to him.

"And Roxas… well, I'm not sure if he's okay. He said he was going to be hanging out with an old friend all weekend."

"Old friend?"

"Yeah… I'm pretty sure it's one of those not-the-best influence friends, but whatever makes Rox feel better."

"I'm sure he'll be fine… but what about you? Will you be okay?"

Sora's fingers tickled my cheeks as he took my face in his hands. I could barely make out his features in my dark room, but his brilliantly blue eyes shined from light of moon, pouring holy and pure against his face.

"Kairi, I'm with you. Of course I'm okay."

He pressed his lips against my collarbone, leaving fluttering kisses on my skin, up my neck. My body shivered underneath the covers, despite the fact that Sora was pressed so close to me that there was no room for cold. My eyes closed, and my head fell back against his strong chest again.

"Sweet dreams," he whispered. "I love you."

My eyes found it hard to adjust to the bar scene. There was so much smoke floating around, clouding the air and clouding my lungs, it was difficult to see, difficult to breathe. Of course Axel would want to come here. This was his haven.

Two and a half years ago, I was only seventeen. Axel had made a fake ID for me, so he could take me into these sorts of places. The name itself was ridiculous: Xion Starr. But to be entirely honest, the photo looked terrible. For some reason, in the picture he had picked, I had short, cropped black hair. All my other features were perfect, but the hair was off. The glory of photoshopping can only go so far.

Axel liked it. He said it made me look a little more sinister.

I hated it.

We'd go to these places, and he'd get rip-roaring drunk and sneak in a few feels of my ass, and for some reason I didn't care. I'd be happy with my Dirty Shirley, swirling my glass around, content and carefree. We'd make out in the back corners of these places, and nobody seemed to care.

I could still remember the feeling, of tasting his alcohol and his smoke in my mouth. Of being trapped beneath his strong grip. Of my back being pressed into a wall, a counter, a pool table. It made me feel sick.

"Classy," Fuu said as she stepped in behind me, rolling her eyes.

At first I felt like she had been reading my thoughts. It took me a second to realize she was talking about the place.

"So," Demyx said, "Where's Psycho?"

I stood on my tiptoes and squinted my eyes, searching the bar for any trace of Axel.

"I'm not sure," I said. I flipped open my cell phone for a quick look at the time. 9:37.

Axel had said that he would be here at nine. When I had mentioned the fact that I was having some friends of mine tag along, he hadn't seemed disturbed in the least. It actually seemed to please him.

"Oh, don't worry," he had told me earlier that afternoon, "I have an old friend who desperately needs a night on the town."

"I guess that means I'm off the hook for the whole 'date' thing?"

"I wouldn't be so sure about that, but… maybe."

I craned my neck higher, looking for him. As I stood higher, my toes squished in the point of my kitten heels.

I saw him at the bar, his legs hanging off the stool, his feet tap-tap-tapping on the floor. He had cut his hair since Sunday night, but it was Axel. I bit down on my lower lip, and the flavors of my strawberry lip-gloss invaded my senses. My heart wouldn't stop beating. Just being here made me nervous.

"There," I said, pointing my index finger towards Axel.

I walked over to him, slipping through crowded tables and already drunken folks. Demyx and Fuu followed faithfully behind me. I thought a man (or maybe that was a woman?) had grabbed my ass, but I let it go, preferring not to cause a fuss.

"Axel," I said as I approached the bar, leaning against it with my elbows. "Nice haircut."

He turned to the side and wrapped his arm around my waist, but the lack of tattoos on his face immediately sent the signal that the man nuzzling against my rib cage was _not_ Axel.

"You looking for Axel, Kairi?"

My nose twitched in disgust, and I untangled the stranger's arm from around my waist. Demyx gave me a confused look, but I ignored him. Fuu blew her bangs out of her eyes and crossed her arms over her chest.

"Who the hell are you?" I asked the man, "And how do you know my name?"

"I'm Reno, babe. Axel's brother?" He looked as if he was expecting some recognition. I shook my head. "Well, twin would be the more appropriate term… but since when have I ever been appropriate?" He burst into a guffawing howl; it made me cringe.

"Dammit, Reno, get off the poor girl," a woman said, approaching us. She had extremely long black hair that was just barely pulled together at the end of the ponytail. While looking her over, my gaze lingered on her chest, which was nearly bursting over the top of her tight satin blouse. When she spoke again, my eyes were drawn back to her face. She was very pretty, yet somehow her features were cruel, cold. "Sorry, honey."

"Oh, it's… okay…" I said.

"You lookin' for Axel?" she asked. Her elbows rested on the counter, and she crossed one leg over the other as she leaned back. She sighed, her breath coming off bored and tired.

"Um… I suppose I am."

"He made her come!" Demyx piped in. I dug my heel into the toe of his shoe, and he whimpered a bit.

"That doesn't surprise me one bit." She winked. "He's in the back with Xigbar, I believe." She sat down and crossed her legs. Her black stilettos sparkled even in the dim light. The three-inch heels looked sinister. "Xigbar, my brother, runs this joint. Axel always is trying to mooch some free alcohol off him. You know how he is, I'm sure."

"Oh, I do." I smiled.

"I'm Tifa by the way," she said amiably, putting her hand on her chest. She elbowed the man that I had mistaken for Axel. "And this fool is Reno, my boyfriend."

"Yo," Reno said coolly, an attempted salute turning into a floppy wave of his hand at his side.

I smiled, not wanting to be impolite. "I'm Kairi, and these are my friends, Demyx and Fuu."

They exchanged their pleasantries, and we stood there awkwardly for some time. Tifa was conversing with Reno, trying to convince him to slow down on the alcohol or else she'd have to take him home early. Demyx whispered to Fuu, and I couldn't hear. I tugged on my dress.

"It's time," Fuu said suddenly. I tilted my head to the side to look at her, confused.

"Yeah, Kairi," Demyx said, his voice dragging out, "Fuu and I have to, uh… leave."

"What? Dem, you said you'd stick with me."

"Sorry, but Utada Hikaru's got a concert tonight at The Lift, and I had already bought us tickets."

"But we just got here!" My face grew hot as an embarrassed blush flourished on my cheeks; Reno and Tifa were watching us carefully. Watching _me_ carefully.

"I know, I know, but we didn't know that we'd be leaving your house so late."

"It's time," Fuu repeated blandly. Her fingers wrapped around Demyx's wrist, and she began to slowly pull him away.

"I can come back and pick you up when the concert is over," Demyx said, his tone sincerely apologetic.

I crossed my arms over my chest as I grumbled, "You don't have to. I'll find a ride."

But Fuu had already dragged him halfway across the bar, and they had left before I even knew it.

"Some friends!" Tifa exclaimed jokingly with a tender smile playing on her lips.

"I know, right?" I said, looking up at her. She laughed, and I instantly liked the woman.

"Take a seat, girl," she said to me as she patted the barstool next to her. She stood up, shaking out her shining dark locks, and whirled around behind the counter. "What to drink?" she asked with raised eyebrows.

I didn't think I had my fake on me, but I also didn't think she'd check.

Or care.

"Dirty Shirley?"

I spun around in my barstool, ignoring Reno's frequent glances to me. I felt out of place, but at this point I really didn't care. I was abandoned at a bar with nothing left to do but wait for the one man that I truly didn't want to see.

Tifa slid my glass to me, and my fingers snatched it up. The grenadine was still swirling in the vodka and lemon-lime soda. I loved it, the bright red hues swirling about, slowly diffusing amongst the alcohol. I took my straw and spun the cubed ice around a few times, mixing it all together.

I took a sip.

Ah, I needed this. I needed this so badly.

I practically chugged my first glass, and Tifa was right there to give me my second.

She handed me my second one. "So, Kairi," Tifa said to me as I popped one of my maraschino cherries in my mouth. "What's up?"

"Oh, nothing," I said.

"You lie. She _lies_," Reno said, squinting at me. I rolled my eyes.

"Why are you here?" Tifa asked me, leaning across the bar. Her breasts spilled over the top of her shirt when she bent over, and Reno couldn't seem to keep his eyes off her. I stared at my drink.

"I don't know," I admitted. "I just don't know."

My drink in my hand, I hitched my feet up on the barstool. I closed my eyelids, cutting myself into a world of darkness and smoke.

I seemed to float there. I seemed to float in nothing. And for a moment—just a moment—I wondered if that's what death felt like. If it felt like this—like nothing. I hoped I wouldn't be so alone when it happened.

But I wouldn't have to worry about that for a long time.

I hoped it'd be like in that one movie. When the woman always forgets everything, and the man retells their love story every day. And they die together.

"Kairi!"

My eyes shot open, and my fingers grasped onto my glass tighter. I needed something to cling to. Shining emerald eyes and triangle-shaped tattoos hovered inches in front of my face, and he kissed me before I could stop him.

His kisses were like cigarettes. Hot, burning, smoky. I knew they were bad for me, but I couldn't help it.

I was addicted.

My mouth opened slightly, faintly, allowing his tongue access. It was so fast too. It tickled my lips, licking up the sweet gloss that still clung to them. He smiled in the kiss, and it took all the strength I could muster to react.

I shoved him back, punching his gut and spilling my drink all over the front of his shirt.

"Jesus Christ, Axel!" I cried, standing up and staring him down. In the back of my mind, I could hear Reno cackling. Tifa leaned over, checking to see if Axel hadn't damaged anything. Axel groaned on the floor, holding his stomach tightly with his hands.

"Hey, get up, man."

I knew that voice. No. No, no, no! Fuck, _no_!

"Axel, get the fuck up. You're fine," Roxas said, prodding—or rather, kicking—Axel in the side.

"Roxas?" I exclaimed, bewildered.

Roxas bent down, scooping Axel up from the ground and propping him against the pool table. The couple that was making out on the green felt surface of the table glanced up. The man was unfazed, but the girl seemed concerned. (I, too, was concerned, but for a completely different reason. The man seemed a good ten years older than the girl.)

"Selphie, don't worry about it," the man said to the girl.

She shrugged her shoulders and turned back to him. Her fingers buried themselves in his unnaturally pink hair as she pulled him close for another romantic kiss on top of the filthy and disgusting pool table placed conveniently in the filthy and disgusting bar.

"Roxas," I repeated, ignoring the couple again, "What are you doing here?"

Roxas dug his elbow into Axel's ribcage. "Axel, so rude of you not to tell her I was coming." It was strange. His voice was sarcastic, yet there was an underlying tone that was terse and serious.

"Oh, God," I said, slapping my hand against my forehead, "Oh, my God."

"I won't tell him," he said to me. My eyes met his, and they sparkled blue and pure. They were the exact same shade as Sora's; an intense guilt racked through my body, taking my insides in its wretched claws and squeezing tightly. I cringed. "I won't!" he repeated, placing his hand awkwardly on my shoulder.

"Roxas, I… I—"

"Don't _worry_ about it. Axel had already told me you were supposed to be coming." He sat at the barstool next to mine and fingered his checkered bracelet—the one that Zack had given him—the one that he never took off.

I swallowed. "But—"

"Kairi!" he snapped. "Chill out!"

I stepped back.

He continued, his voice strained, "I'm not going to tell Sora, so you can just drop it, okay?" He turned to Tifa. "Hey, Tifa, could you get me a beer?"

Axel somehow managed to push himself away from the pool table and staggered to the bar. His body slammed against the counter, and his fingers splayed out in front of him. His shoulder smashed into Roxas', and Roxas had to grab onto the counter so he wouldn't be knocked over.

Axel leaned towards Tifa, and I could smell the alcohol all in his breath, even from being so far back. "Don't… _do it_," he mumbled.

"What the hell, Axel!" Roxas yelled. An amused smile played on Tifa's face as she leaned back.

"Blondie doesn't need to drink," Axel said to Tifa.

"Oh, and you can get fuckin' _trashed_?" Roxas retorted.

Sora was right. Axel wasn't the best influence on Roxas. I had never before heard this kind of language flying off Roxas' tongue so carelessly. Was it Roxas' just hiding his real behavior from me? Or was it really Axel's fault? I wondered vaguely if he had that sort of influence on me, too.

"He's going through a rough patch," Axel explained to Tifa, ignoring Roxas' shouts.

"What are you _talking_ about, dickhead?" Roxas groaned. "I'm fine." He turned to Tifa. "Just give me my beer."

"Well, Axel does have a point. You really shouldn't," Tifa said.

Roxas slammed his fists down. I jumped in my seat. "Fuck this. Fuck you," he said through gritted teeth as he shoved his index finger in Tifa's direction. "I came out so I could get shitfaced, not so I could mother _this_ dumbfuck." He punched Axel's shoulder, and Axel fell forward, his face slapping against the counter.

Axel glanced up. "Roxas—"

"Fuck it, I'm out." He stood up, kicking the barstool over as he did so. He stormed away from us, stomping through the crowds of people.

Axel groaned, and his eyes rolled. Reno threw a comforting arm over his shoulder and shook him.

"Bud, it's all good. Your lover-boy is gonna be _fine_," he said, stretching out his words.

"But—Roxas… I should go talk to him…"

Axel leaned back in the stool, and I caught him before he could topple over onto the floor again.

"Here, I'll go talk to him," I said. "You stay here."

I walked through the maze of tables and drunken people, finally stepping outside. I peered to the left; Roxas was walking away quickly, his hands shoved deep into his pockets.

"Roxas!" I yelled.

He stopped, but didn't turn around.

"Roxas," I repeated.

"What?"

"I—I wanted to talk with you."

He leaned against the side of some warehouse. The streetlamp flickered above us. "About _what_?"

"Well, uh—"

"Exactly. There's nothing to talk about."

"Axel was just trying to help you."

"I don't need his help."

"Then what do you need?"

He turned away from me, shrugging his shoulders. He was so much more different than Sora; Roxas had such a tight string wrapped around his heart that the only emotion that could escape was anger.

"This isn't about Axel, is it?"

Roxas remained motionless and silent. In that instant, I remembered my conversation with Sora from the previous night.

"I heard about Zack," I blurted. Roxas eyes shot to me, and I laid my hand on his forearm. "I'm sorry."

He ripped his arm away from my touch. "Don't be sorry."

"But—"

"There's nothing to be sorry about." He took a breath, and his fingers wiped away tears of frustration from his cheeks. "It was his choice to go fight in the stupid war. He knows what he's doing."

"He's going to be fine, you know."

"You don't know that!" he snapped, finally turning to face me. I paused, not knowing what to say. Roxas took a deep breath. "He could _die_."

I swallowed. "Rox, that… that's not going to happen."

"He's a fucking soldier. Soldiers fight. Soldiers… _die_."

"But Zack is better than the rest. He's going to help the Nation win the war."

"Kairi, I just… I just…" His voice cracked.

I took Roxas in my arms and held him closely. "I'll go get Axel's keys," I said. "I think it's time for you to go home. I'll drive. It's going to be okay." He succumbed to the temptation and nodded into my shoulder.

"It's going to be okay," I repeated as his tears dripped onto my shirt.

It was my mantra. I found the words falling from my lips so often, despite the fact that I wasn't sure if believed them or not.

"It's going to be okay."

About three weeks after the Port Royal attack (and the declaration of war between the Kingdom and the Nation), the battles swept through the coastal regions. Halloweentown was hit, and the Kingdom armies flooded through, slowly taking control of the east. Thankfully, Leonhart had ordered a mass exodus of the city before the Kingdom had hit, so few citizens had been hurt. The defending forces, however, all fell.

There was no footage, and I thanked God for that. I don't think I could have watched the damage again. I couldn't watch the terror.

Two and half weeks after Halloweentown, the Nation had suffered another attack. And this time, a video had been shot. This time, though, the news stations weren't in shock; they weren't mortified. And the sad thing was that I wasn't either. Attacks were occurring more and more, becoming more of a standard thing than a horrifyingly shocking single event.

Sora was watching the news again, and the video clip flickered against the screen. It was strange. The Kingdom, instead of attacking another urban region, went straight for a rural one. I didn't know if it was a mistake. If it were not a mistake, it would mean that my greatest fears were true: the Kingdom was truly, coldly, and undeniably ruthless in its conquest.

I tried to ignore the newscaster's solemn, calm voice reverberating through the room, but I couldn't.

My eyes flicked up to the screen, and the Hundred Acre Wood burned before my gaze. The colored flames licked the trees, and giant plumes of orange fire snaked through the once-flowered meadows.

The camera taking the footage zoomed out, and the ashy blackness of the sky clouded the video. Agricultural fields were burned, destroyed. The few houses that were there smoldered under the bright sunlight.

I looked away from the television and back at the book in my hands.

Only one family had evacuated in time, and from what I heard, everything of theirs had been destroyed. A mother, a father, and their little six-year-old boy were the only survivors.

A charity had already been started to help the families of all three attacks: Port Royal, Halloweentown, and Hundred Acre Wood.

I wanted to help. I couldn't afford to give any money, but I wanted to help. I especially wanted to help the poor family from the Hundred Acre Wood.

I wanted to send the little boy something—maybe my old teddy bear.

I heard he lost his in the fires.

Sora changed the channel to some sitcom, and I could relax.

Sora and I were sitting on the couch at Cloud and Aerith's. I leaned my back into him, cradling my textbook in my hands. I licked my finger and flipped the page.

"Dinner almost ready?" Sora called towards the kitchen.

Aerith ignored him, which was to be expected. He'd been asking about the status of dinner every five minutes for the past hour.

"You won't get any if you keep pestering," I said.

"Yes, I will." He stood up, handing me a throw blanket as he left the room. I adjusted myself against the arm of the couch, trying to focus on my book. My legs curled beneath me, and I spread the throw blanket over my lap.

It was the middle of October. The autumn chill was just beginning to set in, and all the wonderful things with autumn with it. Falling leaves, beautiful and radiant colors, scarves and hot tea.

I closed my book and closed my eyes as I leaned back.

To me, autumn meant one thing: winter was on its way. And when winter was on its way, Christmas was not far behind.

I loved winter dearly, but I had only seen snow maybe once, twice in my life. It was when Mom and Dad were still alive.

Sometimes it made me hate living in the northwest part of the Nation. We never got any snow.

I only wished that I would have a White Christmas, one of these days. I hoped that this Christmas would be the one. It would be so romantic. I could see myself with Sora, holding hands, out on the old cobbled streets, admiring the snowflakes tumbling gracefully from the sky.

"Dinner!" Aerith called from the kitchen.

"Hot dog!" Sora yelled from somewhere in the house, I wasn't exactly sure where. He was loud enough for the entire house to hear.

I dog-eared my page and laid my textbook down on the couch as I stood and walked towards the kitchen.

Aerith was still bustling about the stove, and Naminé waltzed around the kitchen table, gently placing the silverware beside the plates. Riku busied himself by pouring glasses of water for everybody, sneaking coy glances at Naminé. Sora had already sat himself at the table, so I walked over and sat next to him.

Cloud came in and wrapped his arms around Aerith's waist, hugging her tightly. I smiled and grabbed Sora's hand underneath the table, giving it a squeeze.

Roxas sat down on my other side, but not before giving Riku a cold glare, his eyes sparking.

Although Naminé might still be clueless to Riku's attraction to her, Roxas sure as hell wasn't. And the sly smiles that Naminé passed to Riku and Riku alone were only fueling Roxas' rage.

I began to agree with Sora—Roxas wasn't just going to get over it. He already had too much to deal with right then, he didn't need the girl that he clearly loved to fall for another.

I couldn't do anything about it though. I wouldn't even if I could. Riku was kind, quiet, gentle. Perfect for my sister.

Despite this, we were all still a family. It was as if Cloud and Aerith had taken all of us under their wings. Every Sunday, they had us all over for dinner, just like a normal family would. Not one so broken. Not one with dead mothers and runaway fathers.

We were all just about to start eating when the telephone rang.

Aerith instantly scooted her chair back, placing her napkin on the table.

"Babe, c'mon," Cloud said softly.

"I've been waiting for one of my students' parents to call. It'll just be really quick."

I stabbed my salad with my fork, and watched as Aerith grabbed the portable. "Hello?" she spoke clearly into the mouthpiece. "Oh, hey, Yuffie," she said as she walked out of the room, out of earshot.

"Yeah," Cloud chuckled, "one of her _students_."

"How is Yuffie doing these days, anyway?" Sora asked.

"Last I heard she was doing fine," Cloud said.

"She's okay," Roxas said, "When I went over two days ago… it was strange. She's trying to act like Zack isn't gone."

I took a sip of water, and my eyesight met Naminé's from across the table. Her gaze fell to her lap. She wasn't eating.

"That's not… good," Sora said.

"Well, what else is she supposed to do?" Roxas retorted.

"I wish he had proposed to her before he left," I added, "Maybe then she wouldn't feel so lonely."

"I never said anything about her feeling lonely," Roxas snapped protectively.

"It was _implied_," Riku drawled.

"How would _you_ know how she feels?" Roxas asked angrily between fiercely gritted teeth. "You've never even met her."

Sora tried to interrupt. "Rox—"

"It's true!" said Roxas.

"Hey, let's all just calm down," Cloud suggested. He tried to ease up the conversation with a new topic. "How was your calc midterm, Kairi?"

I smiled. "Not the best, but I think I'll still manage to pull my grade up to an A by the end of the semester—"

"I don't think I could do it," Naminé said, her voice lyrical yet incredibly quiet. We all turned towards her; she rarely talked at the dinner table—she just preferred to listen to everybody else speak.

"You couldn't do what?" asked Sora.

"What Yuffie is doing," she said simply. She glanced up at Roxas, then at Riku, for a quick moment before drawing her gaze back into her lap. "I couldn't survive if the one I loved went off to war. That'd be too hard, you know? I think Yuffie is being very strong. It's inspiring."

I took a bite from my buttery roll, and looked around the table. There was silence, except for the clinking of glass against wood, of silverware against the plates.

"I agree, Nam," I finally said, and I squeezed Sora's hand underneath the table.

Aerith walked back into the room, slowly, and hung the phone back up in its cradle. Her footsteps were loud in the silence. She sat down, and stared at her plate, her eyes as wide as saucers.

"Babe, what's wrong?" Cloud asked as he draped an arm over the back of her chair, slowly scratching between her shoulder blades.

"Yuffie… Y-yuffie just…" she choked, her fingers clenching the delicate lace of her apron.

"You okay?" Sora asked, eyes full of concern. Roxas glanced over, his hands gripped to the edge of the wooden table. It was as if he already knew what was coming.

Naminé's hesitant voice spoke, "Aerith?"

I didn't know what to do, so I didn't do anything. I caught Riku's eyes, sparking underneath his shining silver bangs; he looked away.

Aerith cleared her throat. "Yuffie got… got the letter."

"Fuck!" Roxas shrieked, pushing away from the table. Plates and glasses clattered to the floor, some shattering, their pieces racing across the tile. I cringed and turned away from his rage.

"_Fuck!_"

Three days later, I stood within a sea of black tears hidden behind black veils, my eyes poised to the cool October sun that offered little comfort for the mourners.

For some reason, the trees of the cemetery had already lost most of their leaves. Maybe it was because there was just too much death for Mother Nature to combat. Those leaves that still clung on lifelessly were cold and brown, pitifully crinkled and painfully holding onto a better time—a time when all we had to worry about was petty little things, a time when our Nation wasn't plagued with war.

A time when Zack wasn't dead.

I stood between Sora and Naminé, grasping their hands, one in each of mine. Naminé quietly let the tears roll down her cheeks, but Sora kept his composure. His back was straight, his posture stiff.

The church service had been quick, formal, and insignificant to me. The drive to the cemetery was what really hit me.

All along the long sidewalks, kids, teenagers, adults of all ages, all races, had stood solemnly aside, each one holding a Nation flag as the procession weaved through the city streets. The flags had whipped in the air, cracking in the wind.

Little boys and girls had struggled to hold their flags up, yet they still did, one hand pressed firmly against their chest, against their heart.

I watched as Yuffie twisted a handkerchief in her petite hands, calmly staring at Zack's casket. I watched as the tiny group of military men folded the flag, the pink and yellow stripes folding into diagonals. I watched as the gunmen fired their salute. Twenty-one shots resounded in the air, cool, calm, crisp.

Boom.

Boom.

Boom.

I watched as Roxas flinched with each shot.

Boom.

Boom.

I took a deep breath, closed my eyes, and then the military rites were over. The minister said a few last words, and the casket was lowered into the ground.

People began walking away, treading lightly through the graveyard. Yuffie, however, stayed. She stood in place, not seeming to care that the pointy heels of her shoes were piercing into the soft earth. She stood, staring as men started filling the six-foot-deep hole. She stood as others walked. Delicate tears fell to the ground from her face, but she didn't make a sound. No sobs, no yelps, no whines. Just a solid stream of sorrow dripping down her cheeks.

Roxas loosened his tie, yanking it away from his collar. He balled it up, frustrated, and tossed it to the ground.

"Rox," I began.

"Don't," he murmured as he began walking past Sora and I.

"Roxas, it's gonna be okay," I said as I touched his arm, my mantra overcoming all.

"I said _don't_!" he growled, jerking his body away from mine in one of those gestures that makes your heart hurt. Mine hurt so bad.

"Rox!" Sora cried, but Roxas continued storming away. "I'll go talk with him," he said to me before running after his cousin.

A fierce gust of wind blew through the cemetery, sending dead leaves cascading to the dead grass covering the dead bodies. I breathed deeply and started to walk away, towards Naminé and Riku, who I noticed were holding hands as they trekked through the old, weary trees and the old, weary tombstones.

Roxas must have seen them. It was the straw that broke the camel's back.

I looked back. Yuffie was still there, her knees in the dirt. She had begun to wail. Aerith had gone up to comfort her, and Cloud stood awkwardly to the side.

I wondered if anyone would ever tell Yuffie that in two months time, had Zack not been killed, she would have been his fiancée.

I wondered if anyone would ever tell her how much he really loved her.

I wondered how many more lives would be ruined to satiate Xemnas' hunger for power.

I wondered.

I stood in my kitchen, brewing some tea while Naminé and Riku sat on the couch in the living room, talking.

Sora was at his house, refusing to leave Roxas by himself. It was understandable, though. Roxas was taking Zack's death incredibly hard. When Roxas had shoved me away, he had just kept running. He ran for ten miles before Sora caught up to him, sitting on a park bench, crying so hard that he couldn't breathe.

He couldn't_ breathe. _

The kettle squealed, so I poured out three mugs of Japanese green. I brought out the first two for Riku and Naminé and set the mugs on the coffee table.

Naminé had been pretty silent since we got home from the funeral. She had barely touched dinner. Riku and I had exchanged glances throughout the meal, wondering what to say.

I brought up his dad once. I asked him how things were on the home front. It felt strange, even foreign to me—after all we had been through that day, I was asking about Riku's family life. But even though it felt strange, I kept doing it—doing the same thing. Avoiding the war.

I just wanted to distance myself from it. So, generally, I wouldn't talk about it. I wouldn't bring it up. It was never spoken of aloud, but it was always on my mind, especially now that the Kingdom's forces continued to edge closer.

_Who was next? Who was next to die?_

Regarding his family life, Riku said that things weren't going so hot—even worse than he had originally planned. He had to work at the business every other day, and he hated it. I had noticed that he was staying over and sleeping on the couch here more and more often—the nights that he didn't have to wake up early, put on a suit and tie, and pretend he was something that he wasn't.

His father was much worse in huge doses, he told me. He'd give anything to have the awkward two-week summer vacation back.

He said the only thing keeping him in this shit-hole of a town was his friends… us. But what if we weren't enough?

I had gotten my mug of tea and sat in the armchair.

"I should have said something to Yuffie," Naminé said as she picked up the mug from the table, holding it close to her chest so the steam would hit her face.

"Like what?" I asked.

"I... don't know."

"It's okay," Riku said, "Don't worry about it."

"I should have said something, though," Naminé said.

"No worries," Riku said. He picked up his mug of tea and took a sip without blowing it. He swallowed and smiled at Naminé. "So, I've been wondering…"

"Mm?" I mumbled.

"Why do you think it's so hard for Nation to fight back?" he asked.

"What do you mean?" Naminé said.

"Okay," he said as he set his mug back down on the coffee table. He rested his elbows against his knees and took a deep breath. "Generally, when one force is invading another, the one being invaded has so much motivation and determination—they are in their homeland, after all—that the other forces have no hope whatsoever."

"So why are we losing ground?" I asked. "Shouldn't it be near impossible for the Kingdom to keep spreading westward?"

"My question exactly," he said. "It's almost as if they're getting stronger."

"Maybe we just don't have enough troops to fight back," Naminé said.

Riku leaned back. "That could be…"

"You want more of today?" I asked tensely. "More soldiers mean more deaths."

"More soldier deaths mean fewer deaths of the innocents," he retorted.

"I don't want anyone to die," Naminé said quietly.

"That's not what I meant," Riku said softly.

"None of us want more people to die," I said.

"All I'm saying is that no more innocent people should die," Riku clarified. "No more Port Royal incidents. No more Hundred Acre Woods."

And that ended the conversation. Naminé pulled out her sketchbook and started drawing again, her hand creating feathery strokes against the page. Riku pulled out his iPod, a slick, thin orange one, and immersed himself in the Spill Canvas. I got back to reading about Riemann sums, and missing Sora.

Bury the subject, as if it never existed. Bury the war. Bury me.

An hour or so later, I had buried myself so deep into my math work, I hadn't noticed what was occurring on the couch right in front of me.

Naminé was leaning against Riku, her sketchbook plainly in sight, open on her lap. Her hand was flying across the page, and his eyes were staring directly at her work.

My widened eyes moved their gaze from my boring textbook to Naminé to Riku to the sketchpad. And Naminé didn't flinch once. She just kept on drawing, her crayons scurrying across the page furiously.

She swapped one blue for another—an azure for a cerulean—and kept on going. Quick, thin swirls of color bloomed on the paper. I stretched my back and sat higher so I could see her composition.

At first, all I saw was mostly color—various shades of blues and greens and grays, one melting into the next. But as I looked closer, I could tell what she had truly done. It was an ocean scene. Lights of a harbor twinkled in the background. A small ship struggled to stay afloat.

I didn't want to stand or talk or move because if I did, I knew that Naminé would notice that Riku was watching her intently. Maybe she did know, though, and it didn't bother her. Maybe she'd finally gotten over—

"I like it," Riku said. Naminé gasped as she jerked up and pulled the sketchbook close to her chest. Crayons scattered on the floor.

"You…. You what?" Naminé stuttered.

"I really like it, Nam," Riku repeated while bending down to pick up the crayons.

"R-really?"

"Yeah." He paused. "So, what're you gonna do with it? Hang it in your room?"

"I haven't thought about that yet," she said.

"Well, wherever you put it, I'm sure it'll look great."

She blushed and stared at her fingernails. I smiled coyly, but hid my mouth behind my book, allowing my eyes to still peer over the top. Riku stood and stretched.

"I should probably get going," he said.

I put my book down and stood. "You know you can always stay."

"No, that's okay."

"You sure?"

"Yeah. I gotta work tomorrow." He grabbed his coat and walked to the door.

I picked up the three mugs and started carrying them to the kitchen. I heard the shuffling of feet, the jangling of keys, and the opening of the door. Just as I was setting them in the sink, I heard Naminé speak softly.

"Riku, wait."

"Hmm?" he said.

"I want you… I want you to have it."

"Have what?"

"My… drawing. I want you to have it."

I peered past the doorway, watching them. Naminé was handing Riku her drawing.

"Are you serious?" Riku asked incredulously as he took it.

"Well, you're the one… who inspired me to draw it. You inspire a lot of my… work…" She tugged at her white dress and stared at her sandals.

He stared at the picture, his shining eyes wide. "Naminé… I—"

"S-so this is thanks for that, I guess." A faint rosy hue raced across her pale cheeks.

"Nam—"

"But if you don't want it, that's totally fine. You don't have to give it back. You can just… I dunno… burn it, or something."

"I never thought I'd have to tell you this, of all people, but—"

"You don't like it, do you?"

"Naminé!"

"Ah!" Naminé gasped as Riku grabbed her shoulders with his strong hands. He brought her close to his face, leaning in close; his lips tickled her ear. Her eyelids fluttered closed.

"Shut up," he whispered.

And then he kissed her.

I watched my sister pray late that night. She was kneeling in front of her bed, hands clasped and resting against her head. Her lips trembled as she spoke inaudibly, words forming in her mouth but not really being said.

I found it funny… funny in that ironic sort of way.

It was like we lived in two separate worlds—one of war and one of love. The scary thing was that death was what brought them into one world and one reality, one sky, one destiny. Two worlds, two separate worlds.

I dreaded the day that they would come crashing together.

I dreaded the day that death would reign supreme.

Reviews appreciated, as always.


	3. innocence

December arrived, cold and dreary. No snow.

The war continued spreading, and I knew it'd affect me eventually. Days passed. Weeks passed. But it still felt like a distant dream, nothing tangible and real, even though the battles had reached the Pride Lands, the middle of the Nation.

It was like a disease, or a rash, spreading, circulating through the veins, itching the skin. And the only way that it felt better was to scratch, scratch, scratch but that didn't really work. Our troops continued losing ground, no matter how much they scratched and fought against the wounds that the Kingdom gouged into the Nation, it was useless.

But the war was going to hit me, infect me.

Sooner than I had thought.

I slumped myself in one of my kitchen chairs, my hands cradling my head in disbelief, unwilling to accept what was happening. Riku's words danced in my head.

"_I'm leaving_._"_

My fingers ran through my hair, bunching it, squeezing it. I wanted to rip it out.

What was happening to our lives?

"This is the best way. Really," Riku said. He sat down next to me, rubbing one of my shoulders as if to comfort me. I shoved him away; all I could think of was how utterly impossible it was going to be to comfort Naminé when she got home.

"You're just leaving because you're sick of being around your dad. You're a coward. She needs you, and yet you leave because of your goddamn daddy issues."

My words were like poison, dripping from my terse lips. But I didn't care. I hated him right now. I wanted my words to prick him like needles and infect him like a disease and leave him so weak the only option he'd have left would be to remain in Traverse Town with us instead of running off to join the army.

Riku stood up abruptly.

I continued bruising him without remorse. "You just _have_ to have it your way, don't you? You just _have_ to break my sister's heart."

"Don't—"

"You're sick," I hissed. "Coward."

He kicked the kitchen chair across the room in rage. I jolted as it collided with the wall.

"I'm not a coward!" he shouted, bits of saliva spraying my face. "I'm going to fucking fight in this fucking war. I am _not_ a fucking coward!"

"You're a fucking coward for leaving Naminé!" I screamed. "Without even saying goodbye!"

"Kairi!" he yelled. "Let me explain!"

"I don't want your half-ass explanations, you asshole."

He grabbed my shoulders, fingernails digging roughly into my flesh. I tried to yank myself away, but his grasp was strong and true. It was the grasp of a soldier. His face drew close to mine.

"I love her!" he exclaimed.

My body went limp in his arms.

He continued, his voice a melodic whisper, "I love her, Kairi. I love her so much." He released me, and I stumbled back. "I have to do this."

I began to protest, but he hushed me.

"I'd do anything to protect her," he continued. "And if that means I join the army and join a losing war, then so be it." He swallowed. "If that means I give my life to save hers… then so be it."

"Riku…"

"And I'm so sorry for leaving. But it's for the best."

I sat down again, soaking it all in, letting my veins absorb the feeling of Riku's absence. I turned to him. "Why did you tell me first though?" I ask. "Why didn't you tell her?"

He closed his eyes, and I could see the pain rip through his chest, sharp as a knife.

"I need to ask you a favor."

I knew. I knew what he was going to ask me to do. "Oh… Oh, Riku. Don't."

"Please," he begged. He grabbed my hand and held it within his hands—hands that would soon be tools of war, protectors of innocents. "Please tell her that I'm sorry."

I shook my head. "I can't tell her. I can't break her heart like that."

Riku gasped, struggling to hold back tears. His white teeth bit down on his thin bottom lip.

"I don't want to break her heart…" he explained slowly, every word spaced by a low, steady breath of guilt. "But I can't bring myself to say goodbye to her."

"Don't make me, Riku," I said with clenched teeth.

"I'm asking you a favor," he said more sternly. "From one friend to another."

"But—"

"If I told her that I was leaving… and if I saw her face fall… I don't think I could leave. And I need to. I need to protect her. Please, Kairi. For me. Tell her goodbye."

My hands folded in my lap, and I breathed deeply. I couldn't believe I was going to do it.

"Fine. I'll… let her know. I'll do it." He lifted me out of the chair again, embracing me in a rough, one-armed hug. My eyes started welling up with acidic tears, and I hugged him back. "But be careful, Riku. Please. As a favor… from one friend to another."

"I will," he mumbled into my hair.

I didn't want to let go, but I knew if I couldn't, there was no way that Naminé was going to be able to. I released him from my grasp and wiped a tear hanging on his lower eyelid. He swallowed.

"I have to go," he said, "I saved Sora for my last… my last goodbye."

I couldn't say anything, so I just stood there wordlessly, trying to hold back all my protests. And then he kissed my forehead gently, gave me one last hug, and—

"I'm home!" Naminé cried from the front door. I heard her backpack hitting the ground with a resounding thud, filling the silence with unwelcome reverberations. Riku's sharp eyes flew to me, and a soft tear rolled down my face.

"Just go," I whispered. "Please."

He nodded silently. Guilt needed no words full of fake apologies to express itself, only silence. Hurt needed no canvas other than his sad face, his warm tears the paint that dripped slowly down. I watched him break when he plastered the cold, determined look on his face.

"Riku!" Naminé exclaimed with a bright, wide smile as she entered the kitchen, as she entered a cold, lonely world devoid of love that she wasn't nearly ready enough to enter. "I didn't expect you to be here!"

My breath hitched in my throat.

And without a look, without a backwards glance, without any form of hesitation, he brushed past her, leaving her scared and empty and alone.

She left the next day.

I hated myself. I should have seen it coming. I wished I had thrown the backpack that she planned to take with her into my room and locked the door so she'd never have been able to leave. I wished I had been a strong older sister and had explained sternly that she was being young and stupid (when really she was just young and in love).

I wished I had screamed, _If you follow him there, you'll wind up on the front lines and get killed! That's exactly what he's trying to prevent! He's trying to protect you and this is how he wants to do that!_

But I couldn't. Or rather, I didn't.

She had bawled all night, moving from room to room like a weary ghost wanting to fade into nonexistence so she wouldn't have to feel that kind of hurt again. Every time her crying slowed and her loud sobs transformed into deep, breathy sighs in an attempt to control herself, she erupted again, her eyes like broken faucets, unable to stop running.

When Riku had told me his plan, I had thought my biggest problem was just going to be calming Naminé down, but I found that it was getting increasingly more difficult to control myself.

Watching Naminé shatter was the hardest thing I'd ever had to watch. I wanted to comfort her, but knowing that there was no way to comfort someone who felt so utterly abandoned, I said nothing.

Maybe if I had said something, anything, she wouldn't have left.

I had fallen into a deep sleep in my bed, after I had gotten used to the sounds of Naminé's wails. When I woke, I knew something was wrong.

She was nowhere to be found, and I had let her leave. I should have barred the doors. I should have kept an eye on her. I shouldn't have fallen asleep. I should have done something.

I was so angry as I stormed through the house, looking for signs of her. A used cereal bowl lay in the sink; she always washed her dishes after she used them. Her bedspread was in disarray, pillows on the floor; she always made her bed.

I knew she had gone to follow him. Her clean, white coat was gone from the rack. Her backpack had been scooped off the floor. Necessities had been cleaned out from her room.

I rushed to my purse, and searched through for my cell. A note had been left inside.

_Sorry, but I needed some munny. –Nam_

My wallet was empty. I shrugged that off and grabbed my phone, hastily pounding the speed-dial. I heard the familiar jingle. My heart sank.

She left her cell phone on her bedside table, with the little star charm attached to the antenna hanging off the side.

She was untraceable.

Shakily, I drove over to Sora's house, squinting to see through the tears. I was scared. So very scared. It was one thing for Riku to run off to the battles raging across the middle of the Nation. He was strong, he was able, he was equipped with a weapon.

Naminé was so weak and tiny and fragile. It was so easy to break her spirit—it could be snapped in half like a crayon, but the little paper coverings that would hang over the edges would never be enough to repair the damage.

I don't know what I'd do when I found her. _If_ I found her.

I parked the car and pushed the front door open, stumbling into Aerith's arms, just as she was leaving the house. Sora was walking down the stairs.

"She's gone," I groaned. "I was so stupid. So incredibly stupid."

Sora hurried down the stairs and took me from Aerith, who was left speechless, into his own arms, holding me tight with his familiar, warm grasp. "It'll be okay," he told me, but of course it was impossible for me to believe him.

Roxas peered out from the stairwell, listening to our conversation. I ignored his presence.

"She even left her cell phone," I explained while crossing my arms, "There's no way I can find her."

"It's gonna be okay."

"No, no, it's not. I'm supposed to be watching out for her, and I let her run away. I'm so stupid. I'm the one who is supposed to take care of her."

"Wait, wait," Aerith started. "What's happened?"

"Naminé ran away," Sora said. "To bring Riku back."

"I can't… believe…" I said.

"Kai, it's gonna be okay."

"_Stop_ saying that it's gonna be okay!" I snapped and began to storm up the stairs. "When we both know that it's not!"

I stepped around Roxas, who had sat himself down on the top step of the staircase. I looked at him, but his eyes were cold and blank, staring straight ahead, unfixed on anything in the real world. He must be focused on something in his memories; I assumed he was still struggling with Zack's death. Just as I passed him, his glance quickly focused and shifted to me. His bottom lip lowered just the slightest bit, quivering with indecision, as if he wanted to tell me something, but he just couldn't get it out.

I went past him. He stayed silent.

Entering Sora's room, slipping under his pile of blankets, I recalled how, even though I'm only two years older than her, I've had to act as a mother to Naminé more times than I could count.

About two years ago (I had been dating Axel), Naminé got really sick at school. I had to leave my classes and bring her home and take care of her until she got better. I vaguely remember when I was kid, our mom took care of me in the same way. I wasn't like normal sisters. I had to be the mom too. Mother and sister.

And sometimes, it was hard. Trying to fuse two entirely different roles could sometimes create awful consequences between Naminé and I.

I hated her for making me miss my date with Axel that night, because I was stuck at home, holding her hair back as she vomited.

She hated me whenever I'd go into mother mode, and get all bossy and snippy if she didn't do something that I needed her too.

It was hard, yes, but I loved my sister.

I'd never trade the relationship we shared for anything in the world.

Sora walked in, holding a cup of tea for me. He set it on the nightstand. "I'm sorry," he said quietly.

"I can't believe she'd leave me, Sora. I'm still hurt that Riku left. Why did she have to go too?"

"I don't know."

"I don't think I'll be able to take it if someone else leaves me. I'll just… I don't even know what's gonna happen anymore. What's… what's happening?"

"We're losing a war," he said simply. His truth was harsh and cold, but there was no longer a place for innocence. Not anymore.

I swallowed a gulp of tea. "Please don't leave me, too, Sora. Please." He took my hand.

"I will never leave your side, Kairi. Never."

"Promise?"

"I promise." He kissed my hand. "Now please, get some sleep."

"But it's morning."

"And you've cried yourself out. Don't exhaust yourself, please, Kai."

I nodded and wiggled under the covers and fell asleep faster than I thought possible.

When I woke, Sora was gone. My cup of tea was cold. I stretched my legs, relishing in the movement. I stood and grabbed my mug, walking downstairs so I could reheat it in the microwave. I felt like all I did was sleep these days.

Sora was alone on the couch, playing his favorite game, _Gummyship Battalion. _Usually Roxas played with him.

"Hey," I said.

"Good morning, sunshine," he said without looking back.

I walked into the kitchen and popped my mug in the microwave. I leaned against the doorjamb between the kitchen and living room when I asked, "Where's Roxas?"

Sora paused the game.

"Um… um…" he stumbled over his words, a very rare thing.

"It was just a question. Nothing serious."

"Don't get angry. Well… Roxas… kinda… went to go find Naminé."

Hours felt like days.

Hours _became_ days.

One.

Two.

Three.

Four.

Five days since Riku had departed to go protect Naminé. Four days since Naminé had run away to follow Riku. Three and a half days since Roxas had left to play hero and bring Naminé home.

And I was to live my normal, innocent life as expected while everyone I was close to got up and left me without a second thought.

At least I knew that Sora'd never leave.

Right after Sora told me what Roxas had done, I called him up. Thankfully he was kind enough to bring his cell phone with him.

"What the _hell_ are you thinking, Roxas?" I yelled before he even had a chance to say hello. "You too?"

"Kairi, stop," he said calmly. I held my breath. "I love your sister. I really love her. I'd hate myself if I stayed home, not doing anything to find her."

I took it in, let his words soak through me. He loved my sister. He loved Naminé.

"But we were going to work out a plan!"

"I'm fine on my own. I'll find her. I promise."

He hung up.

Slowly I closed my phone and sat down on the couch next to Sora.

"He's just going to get his heart broken," I said softly.

"He knows."

"Does he? Does he _really_?"

"He probably has no idea _how_ badly this is going to hurt him. But yes, I'm pretty sure he knows."

"I know he loves her… but Naminé doesn't love him. Not the way Roxas loves her. Not the way he needs to be loved."

So I lived my life, waiting on the sidelines for everyone to return to me, trying to act like a normal human being whose life wasn't being slowly torn apart by a war that I had absolutely nothing to do with.

I tried to live my life like a normal person. But the questions kept coming back.

Why did war always hurt the innocents?

What did _we_ do?

Why _us_?

Or did it really all go back to love, not war? Was it love that was hurting me so much? My love for my sister, my love for a friend, my love for my boyfriend's brother-cousin. Every time a love was taken from me, it hurt.

At the same time, though, was it the war who showed me how much love hurts? So it really did go back to the war?

I had no idea, and it was all very confusing, but I couldn't think about it anymore and I knew I just needed to live my life, so that's what I did; I just lived my life. I went to school, I worked part-time, I spent the majority of my time with Sora. I couldn't stand being alone in my house. The emptiness created a crafty silence —one that messed with my imagination, making me hear things and see things and smell things that weren't there.

Sometimes I thought I heard Naminé light gentle steps traipsing through the kitchen. But it wasn't her.

Sometimes I thought I saw Riku's figure, sleeping on the couch, buried under a bundle of blankets. But it wasn't him.

Sometimes I thought I smelled my parents. Mom's feminine perfume and Dad's musky cologne mixed together in an unmistakable scent that created that one feeling… the _I'm home and I'm safe and I'm warm_ feeling. I opened the cedar chest with the remains of all their belongings and felt them there. But no matter how much it smelled and felt like them and how much I wanted that feeling to be real, I knew they weren't there with me. They were dead.

Was Riku dead? Who was going to get the message? Were Sora and I going to have to swim through a second sea of black with hands clasped tightly—so tightly that it would be impossible for the sea to swallow us?

Was Roxas going to be the one who was the comforter this time around? Was he going to comfort Naminé, his love? Would he comfort her? Or would he be secretly relishing in the fact that his rival was dead and gone?

Or was Naminé the one who was dead? Was she killed in battle? A weaponless civilian? The innocent?

I tried to live my life like a normal person, and I wanted to, truly, but when love hurt this much… it was impossible.

I was walking home from university – where fewer and fewer people were attending – trying to live my life like a normal person when I got the call.

"Twilight Town." Roxas told me, his voice low and raspy and scared. "Hurry."

I nearly dropped the phone in my rush to get home. I sprinted across the city, my backpack bouncing painfully with each stride. It was again a reminder of how stupid I felt to allow my baby sister to run off on her own like that. Yes, she was seventeen. But I'd watched over her long enough to know that she simply couldn't _be_ by herself.

I was shaken.

I fumbled with my keys. They wouldn't fit into the ignition. The tears started welling in my eyes as all the _what ifs_ flew through my head. My entire world was a big what if, and I hated it.

The car grumbled to life, and I floored it.

I pulled up to a giant mansion on the edge of the city, two hours from Traverse Town, waiting, waiting, waiting for the sight of them so my nerves could calm down and I could finally breathe again.

Roxas stumbled out of the entrance, carrying Naminé. He looked grim. She looked… she looked dead. Paler than pale. Thinner than thin. Weaker than weak.

"No!" I screamed automatically, flying out of the car and sprinting over to them. "Naminé! Oh God, Nam!" I rushed to Roxas, rushed to my sister. I stroked her hair, grabbing onto her hand. "Namie!" I yelled.

My voice wakened her from her death-like trance.

"Kairi," she said simply, softly.

"Oh, my God. Oh, God. You're alive."

She nodded once, very briefly, and slumped her head back onto Roxas' chest.

"It's not good," he told me as I opened the backseat door, as if Naminé weren't there. "She's so sick." He gently placed Naminé in the back, climbing in after her to buckle her in.

"We'll just need to get her home," I said.

Roxas joined me in the front, and I peeled away, speeding back home.

Naminé drifted in and out of consciousness in the backseat, her head flopping against the backseat, mouth wide open. Her lips were dry and cracked and chapped and little droplets of blood dribbled down her chin from her bottom lip that was usually so full and pink and dainty—not dead lips.

With one hand still clutching the steering wheel, I patted Roxas' thigh. "Thank you. Thank you for finding her."

He shrugged as he glanced back at her; pain welled up in his eyes—pain at seeing her so broken. He turned back to me. I knew he was going to say it.

"She needs to go to a hospital."

I clutched the wheel more tightly.

"She can't."

"And why the hell _not_?"

"You know we don't have the money for that. We can't afford hospital bills. It's just too much!"

His face fell. "I'm sure that Cloud and Ae—"

"I can't accept their money. I can't." He settled back into his seat and took another look back. "I can take care of her," I said.

"You're no nurse." He wasn't trying to be mean, only truthful.

"I'm the best she has. I'm sure she'll get better once she gets home. Warm. Fed."

"I hope so…"

We entered a silent pause, the only sounds heard being the engine and the road racing past us. Naminé curled herself into a ball.

"Can I turn on the radio?" Roxas asked.

Only then I realized that I had driven the entire trip in silence. It was eerie when I thought about that.

"Yeah, sure."

He flipped it on, and I knew that something was up when a familiar pop song didn't instantly begin pouring out the speakers.

A man's voice, solemn and crisp, spoke.

It was President Leonhart.

"I am proud of our Nation. We are a country of strong, courageous men and women, and the sacrifices that have been made in this war will never be forgotten."

Roxas' eyes began to glaze over as memories of Zack unfolded.

"However, despite the overwhelming bravery of our army…" He took a deep breath. "And despite our government's best diplomatic efforts, negotiations have fallen through. Xemnas refuses to let the Nation surrender and become part of his kingdom, which is what we thought his initial plans were. His plans must have mutated along with his mind. He doesn't want anyone who even dreamt for one moment of undermining his authority to be alive. He is determined to kill, not conquer."

I slammed on my brakes, soaking in what was being said.

"We have information that his army will kill men, women, and children. Any and all civilians in his path will be murdered under his hand."

Naminé, who had been silent, started crying in the backseat.

"Now this is a terrible time, but we shall recover. For now, though, our focus is survival. We must flee the Nation. King Mickey of Disney Land, far across the ocean, has agreed to protect our people at a very great cost and has opened up the gates to his realm. All civilians must evacuate to the Land immediately. I repeat: All civilians _must evacuate_."

Naminé retched and vomited in the backseat.

"_I repeat: All civilians must evacuate_._"_

I tucked Naminé into her bed and placed a cool towel on her forehead before shutting her door quietly behind me. Roxas stood outside in the hallway, staring at me, his eyes intense and alive.

"What are you going to do?" he asked.

"What do you _think_!" I snapped, pushing past him. My voice rose up in my throat until it exploded out, a wild animal ready to attack whoever was in its path. "She is no condition to travel. She doesn't do cars well, and there's no way we can walk out of this city. No matter what, Naminé would only get worse. She'd get sicker and sicker until she died and then that would be on my conscious. I refuse to sacrifice her life for my safety. We're staying. Obviously."

"Obviously! And whose fault is that?"

"_Don't_ blame this on me."

"I wasn't blaming it on _you_, princess," he drawled. I cringed, clearly hearing Axel in his voice. "I'm blaming the son of a bitch that left her! I'm blaming Riku!" Venom dripped from the name.

"Rox—"

"I love her enough to _actually _save her. But to save her, she needs to leave, Kairi."

"We can't leave."

"Kairi!"

"We can't. She's too sick. She's gonna have to stay here and rest and get better before we even think about leaving. I can't abandon her."

"Kairi…"

"…I'm sorry, Roxas. I'm sorry."

A few hours later, Cloud, Aerith, Sora, and Roxas came, bags in hand. I felt them there outside before I even heard a knock, and when the echo signaling their presence finally reverberated through our tiny house, I cringed. I knew what they were going to say, and I knew I'd have to tell them (again) that Naminé and I were staying. I dreaded seeing them because I dreaded what I'd have to do.

I dreaded having to say goodbye to them.

I dreaded having to say goodbye to Sora.

I had been caring for Naminé as well as I could, checking on her sleeping form every ten minutes or so, making sure the towel on her forehead was cool, browsing old cookbooks for recipes that were easy on the stomach. I kept pretending like I had some semblance of a clue as to what I was doing but I knew Roxas was right: I was no nurse. But at the same time I knew she didn't need a hospital or a doctor or a nurse or expensive medication from the pharmacy down the street. She needed something that would mend a broken heart. She needed Riku.

And he wasn't here.

Was he dead, too?

I was sitting on the sofa alone, staring at the empty television screen, when they knocked. Like a zombie, I slumped my way over to the door and braced myself for the onslaught of protests. I couldn't break down and let anyone know how scared I was about everything, about how unsure I was if Naminé would ever get better by herself, if we'd ever evacuate, if we'd ever survive. If the Kingdom invaded the west before Naminé was well enough, we'd be goners. No. No, Naminé would get better. I had to believe that we would live. I had to be strong for everyone. If I were strong, everything would be okay. If I were strong, Naminé and I would live.

I took a breath and felt it in my bones. I was strong.

My hand was on the doorknob. Turning. Pulling. The door creaked open.

I saw his cerulean eyes staring at me, and I couldn't meet them. Not yet. My gaze fell to Aerith.

"Oh, Kairi!" she exclaimed. Her bags dropped to the ground as she threw her body against mine, her arms folding me into her chest tightly. I buried my face into her and inhaled the floral aroma that constantly emanated from her. It was a scent that seemed like it had been a part of my life forever, and I needed it now. I needed to smell her now so that I could remember her later. Her voice was quiet when she pressed her lips to kiss the side of my head and whisper her final plea. "Please come with us."

I pulled back.

"You know I can't leave Naminé—"

"But—"

"And you know she can't travel like this. Aerith, she's… she's sick."

Cloud spoke softly. "Aerith. Kairi's made her decision. We have to respect that."

Aerith sighed, her hands sliding down my arms as she let me go. "I know, I just thought… At least let me see if I can do anything to help her heal. While I'm here."

"Sure. Just up the stairs, to your right."

She hurried up the stairs. I saw Sora in my peripheral vision, but I insisted on ignoring him. I couldn't do this right now. Cloud spoke again. "She was a nurse once. She should be able to help."

"I don't think medical help is going to do anything," I said calmly as I stepped back and leaned against the wall for support. I shook my head. "No medicine can cure a broken heart."

Cloud nodded, and we fell into silence. Sora's presence bore down on me like an angry weight. If only they waited just a little longer to leave so I could wait just a little longer before I broke my own heart.

"I need to see her," Roxas said gently.

"Rox—"

"Please," he said, voice firm and filled with purpose. "I'm not asking you for anything else. I'm not asking you to leave Naminé and come with us. I'm not asking you to risk Naminé's life by having you both come with us. All I'm asking of you, Kairi, is to let me say goodbye. I have to say goodbye to the girl I love."

When I looked at Roxas at that moment, I saw the agony swimming in his eyes. His heart ached, and I could see, feel, and touch the pain he felt. In that moment, he surrendered.

He surrendered his heart to her.

Because in that moment, he knew that he was not the one to mend her broken heart. No matter how much affection he could pour on her, no matter how he struggled and cried and begged God above for her to understand the love he felt, he wasn't the one. He wasn't her destiny. He couldn't save her. He knew this now, and I could see the thought realize in his stern lips and clenched fists and stoic eyes and his firm stance as he implored this one request of me.

I couldn't say no. He needed to say good-bye, because he didn't know when he was going to see her next.

"Of course," I said, just as Aerith was returning. "Is she awake?" I said to her. Roxas passed her on the stairs as he went to say goodbye.

"She was drifting in and out," she replied. "She's very weak."

"Yeah… yeah, I know. Anything you know of that might help?"

Aerith stood next to Cloud, taking his hand in hers. "She's dehydrated. Small sips of water as often as possible. Replenish her electrolytes with a sports drink."

"Okay. Thank you. Hopefully that will make her feel better."

Aerith nodded. "Well, Cloud, would you like to say goodbye to the girls?"

"I have no desire to disturb Naminé. But Kairi," he said, looking at me. "I know you are strong, and I know you will make it through this. I know Aerith wishes we could evacuate together, but that's just not possible. We may be separated for a long, long time."

"Yeah," I sighed. My eyes lifted to Sora, whose unusually quiet gaze had been locked on me since he had entered. Be strong, Kairi.

Cloud continued, "Let us know where you guys end up once you get to the Land. I'm not sure how easy communication will be… but I promise, we'll come find you, and help you get settled wherever you are. I'm not sure exactly how many refugee camps King Mickey is setting up, but I doubt we'd all end up at the same one."

I nodded, trying to hold back the tears blurring my vision. How long would it be until I saw Sora again? How long would it be until he held me in his arms? Even once we were all in the Land, we still wouldn't be together. How long would it be until I knew for certain that he was safe? I looked away from him again.

"We're walking to the northern edge of Traverse Town, where evacuation planes are held," he said. "We need to hurry to ensure a space for us."

Aerith chimed in, "Naminé should improve before space is an issue. Don't worry."

Cloud stepped away from Aerith and clapped his hand on my shoulder. "You've done the right thing, Kairi. Be safe." Aerith smiled and took my hands in hers. I

"We love you, Kairi. We'll see you as soon as we can."

I heard Roxas go down the stairs then, and I turned to see him. The whites of his eyes were bloodshot, and his tears shone down his cheeks. He was a broken man.

"Thank you, Kairi," he said quietly.

"Roxas…" I sighed, pulling him into my arms. I lost the losing battle against my emotions, and the first tears of what I presumed to be many spilled from my eyes as I imagined the suffering Roxas had just experienced as he not only said goodbye to the girl he loved, but accepted the fact that Riku was her prince. Not him. I held his face in my hands. "Oh, Rox. I'm so sorry."

"I'll be okay, Kairi. I'll find Axel and… once I find Axel, I'll…. Well I don't know what I'll do. Take care of her, okay." I wiped his cheek with my thumb and hugged him again.

I knew Axel would weasel his way out of the Nation as fast as he could. Axel was always like that. He weaseled his way into my heart years ago, and back into my life more recently than I wished to admit. I had never told Sora. And I knew then what I'd have to do before I told my true love goodbye. I'd have to confess.

I spoke to Roxas. "Take care."

Then, Sora stepped forward. I held my breath, expecting the hurt right then, right in that moment, but he turned and held Roxas instead. Aerith broke down crying as she joined her two nephew-sons in an embrace. Her sobs were loud and filled with pain, pain for all this loss. Cloud stood off awkwardly to the side before joining in as well, his strong arms holding the family he had never expected together.

I wiped the tears from my own cheeks as Aerith, Cloud, and Roxas picked up their bags from the front of the house and left Sora and I alone for our own, separate goodbye. They turned and yelled one final goodbye.

I sat on the couch, my head in my hands. Sora sat down next to me, his arm around me.

"Kairi—"

"Stop it, Sora. Don't. I can't right now. I just need to say—"

"_You_ stop it!"

"I'm serious!"

"Kai, I'm—"

"I kissed Axel."

"Yeah, I know."

"And Sora, please, I promise you that I felt nothing and I hated every moment of it and I never—"

He grabbed my arms.

"Kairi, just shut up! Please!"

"What?"

"Kairi. I already knew. Roxas told me what had happened.

"Roxas! But he—"

"Don't be mad at him. He was just upset about Zack at the time. He couldn't help himself."

I sighed, agreeing. "But aren't you mad at me though? And if you knew, why didn't you say anything?"

Sora continued, "I was upset at the time, but after Roxas told me about Axel, and how he manipulated you, I… I forgave you in my heart—"

"I don't deserve your forgiveness, Sora."

"Shut up, Kairi. You deserve everything and more."

"You've always been the kindest, most wonderful, most… amazing…" I choked as the hurt rose in my throat, the hurt of telling him goodbye. "I love you so much, Sora. I can't believe I have to say goodbye to you now… now when I need you more than ever. And I understand that you have to leave with your family, but I… I… love you." My sobs overtook my voice.

"Kairi. Calm down."

I stood then, unable to control myself. I began to yell. "Calm down? How can I calm down? I feel terrible. I just confessed that I cheated on the most important person in the world to me, and now—"

"Kairi?" He looked up at me from the couch, the slightest of smiles curving his lips up.

"Let me finish, Sora. Now I have to say goodbye to you and I just… I just…"

"You are such a drama queen!" he exclaimed, laughing.

"Sora, I… I don't understand."

"Well, one, I've forgiven you ages ago, so please stop berating yourself for something that doesn't matter. Two, I'm staying with you and Naminé. And three, I'm sorry for calling you a drama queen. Even if you are."

The shock rolled over me. "…Really?"

"Kairi. Are you really asking me if you're a drama queen or not? Because that's a silly question."

"You're… you're staying?"

He laughed again. "I thought we promised each other we'd never leave each other… or did I just make that up?" He scratched his head.

"You're staying?" I repeated.

He kissed my nose. "Kairi, we'll be together until the day we die. Why is that so hard for you to understand?"

And when he kissed me then on the lips, I knew. I knew I couldn't have possibly stayed without him. I knew I could never live without him.

"I love you, Sora," I whispered.

"I know," he replied with a wink. "Also, I'm sorry for telling you to shut up. That was just plain rude of me—"

"Oh, shut up," I said as I kissed him again.

Naminé was a zombie. She'd roam about the house weakly, from her bed to the couch, falling asleep from the exhaustion. She rarely spoke, and when she did it was to complain about her chest hurting.

I let her do what she wanted at first, but once I realized that what she wanted to do was absolutely nothing, I tried to push her sketchpad on her, hoping to occupy her time with drawing. She'd scribble for a bit and then tear the page off. Scribble and rip. Scraps of paper littered the house.

She ate much less than she had ever eaten in her life, but at least she didn't seem to be losing any more weight. I couldn't see how it was possible for her to lose any more. Her soft, round cheeks were already slightly sunk in. She looked weak and frail and helpless and once when I had asked her to eat some soup since she needed to put some weight back on, she glanced at me with a thousand-yard stare that tore me apart. I cried to Sora that night. It was the first time that she broke me down.

Some days she seemed to improve the tiniest bit. Others she seemed to have worsened quite a bit. Most days she was the same: sick, apathetic, and broken.

Some days I cursed Riku. Others I wished nothing more than his safe return. Most days I tried to ignore the voice in my head that was telling me he was long gone, dead under the hand of the Kingdom.

The worst days were when Naminé seemed to want to waste away. I refrained from cursing God on those days, but I really wanted to. Instead I cursed Xemnas, the instigator of this entire war. My precious, innocent sister was reduced to this… this shell of a human. All because of him. I hated him. I wished he were dead. I wished he were dead instead of Riku, instead of Zack, instead of the thousands of Nation soldiers who gave their lives to protect the innocents.

The warfront plowed closer. Agrabah was a wasteland.

It was better when we didn't watch the news. It made me bitter. It made me furious. But I knew I needed to be as optimistic as possible, for Naminé, and thankfully, Sora was there to help. He was always there, and I had never felt closer to him.

I was walking down the stairs after checking on Naminé one night. She was sound asleep, but I always felt the need to check to make sure she was still breathing.

"Christmas is in a week," Sora said.

"Yeah? Weird, I've lost track of the date," I sighed as I sat next to him on the couch, cuddling up into his body. I breathed in his scent.

"How could _you_ of all people forget the fact that Christmas is so close?" he joked, jostling me against his chest.

"My mind's been a little preoccupied as of late," I said looking up at him, "in case you didn't already know."

"Oh, I know." He gently pushed me off him and walked to the side of the couch. "Which is why I brought this for us to do. A holiday activity to get your mind off everything for a little bit." He kicked a cardboard box into my side. "Christmas decorating!" he shouted as he opened the box, revealing an array of holiday goodies: tinsel, ornaments, tiny trees, Santa statues.

A smile crept onto my face—and I realized in that moment that a smile… it was something that I hadn't felt in weeks.

"Sora, I…"

"You're welcome."

For hours, we soaked up the Christmas spirit. From room to room we went, decorating, listening to music, _laughing_. I even started baking some cookies. What can I say? The happiness invaded me. I hadn't expected it, and I realized that I had been pushing it away. I had been so worried about Naminé and Roxas and Riku and everybody else that I hadn't realized how miserable _I _was, how long happiness had been missing from my life.

Of course Sora was the one to bring it back. Of course it was him.

I was pulling a batch of cookies from the oven when he called me from the living room.

"Kairiiiiiiii! Heeeelp!" His voice was playful.

"Coming!" I removed my oven mitts and walked to the other room. Sora's hands were behind his back when I entered.

"Come here! We have one last decoration, and I need your help to hang it up." When I approached him, he pulled out from behind his back a sprig of mistletoe, dangling it above his head. I rolled my eyes but walked to him anyway.

"You are ridiculous," I said. "You could have just asked for a kiss."

"But this way, it's a special kiss."

"Special?"

He leaned in to me, holding the mistletoe above our heads. I stood on my tiptoes to meet his lips.

I had shared a lot of kisses with Sora. Quick, frantic kisses. Slow, drawn-out kisses. Smiling kisses. Wet, teary-eyed kisses. Shy kisses. Open kisses. Painful kisses.

But when out lips met, I knew he was right. This was special. This was love. True, honest, innocent love.

He was mine, and I was his, and that's how it would always be.

I could feel his heart beating against my chest as I pressed myself into his body. His lips were hungry, but that was okay because I needed them too. He tasted like peppermint.

We stumbled back towards the couch as I drank him in, my hands feeling along the length of his back, the wiry muscles shifting beneath my fingers with the movements of his arms. He erased all space between us when he pulled me into him, but that still wasn't enough.

I tugged the bottom of his shirt upwards, and he yanked it off as I unbuttoned my blouse, our lips parting for the briefest of seconds before meeting again. This time, my tongue shamelessly dove into his mouth, exploring its taste, its softness, its wetness.

Sora fumbled at the clasp on my bra for a moment before he managed to undo the hook. Again, we pulled together. Bare skin against bare skin. It made me shiver, yet it still wasn't enough.

I pushed him down on the couch, catching his eyes drinking in my figure. His smile was brilliant. I undid my pants and shimmied out of them. Sora followed my lead and pulled his off. His kiss was intoxicating—that was the only word that could describe it. He kissed my neck, nibbled my ear until the moan escaped; even more intoxicating was his touch. As I straddled him, his hands pulled me closer, reading every inch of skin, refusing to ignore a single area. While I kissed his lips, his fingers grazed my legs, my back, my stomach, my shoulders, my breasts. It still wasn't enough.

He tugged my underwear down and I pulled on his, jerking it down to his ankles so he could kick them off. With a swift movement, he laid me down on the couch and climbed on top of me. Poised above, he held me close, and it was almost enough. Almost.

Sora's eyes made contact with mine, and I knew what they were saying.

_Are you okay?_ _Are you ready? _I was okay.I wasn't scared. I wasn't ashamed.

_I love you. I want you. I need you. _I needed him so badly, I needed him in every way. I needed him now in the way we had been so careful about, in the way that we had held so dear, in the way we were waiting for.

_Are you ready?_ I had always told myself ever since I was a little girl that I would wait for my husband. And I knew then that that man would be Sora. I knew I loved him. I loved him now. I knew we were to be married, to be together forever.

The only thing I didn't know anymore was if we would actually be alive when that day was supposed to come.

_Are you ready?_

"Yes."

One week passed. Christmas Eve. Time meant nothing to me, and it meant everything to me.

Everything was the same. In the house, everything was the same. Yet I knew the Kingdom's frontlines inched closer every day. There was nothing we could do. Naminé still couldn't travel. She was still dehydrated, and there was no way could leave her. So we stayed. All three of us. The same.

"Nam's fast asleep," I said as I walked into my bedroom. Sora lay in my bed with open arms, beckoning me with the promise of his warm embrace. It was too tempting to resist, and I snuggled up against him. It made me feel whole lying with him like that.

Sora cleared his throat. "Do you… do you think—"

"No. There's no way she would be able to handle traveling all the way to the Land. And by boat, no less. All planes have already evacuated, you know that."

"Yeah. It sucks that they can't come back."

"Easy targets. Hundreds of innocents dead with one blow."

It sickened me how easy it was for us to talk about this now. To talk about people dying… and not just any people—innocent people. People who had worked in the grocery stores I bought food at… people warming up in the public library in the winter… people who I had seen but never spoken to. It was just easier to picture those people dying under Kingdom hands than Naminé, Sora, me.

Even better was picturing Aerith and Cloud safe in the Land. When they wrote us after settling in, they had said that Roxas took off with a friend. I knew it was Axel, but I was no longer repulsed by their friendship. Axel wasn't toxic to Roxas like he was to me (if you ignore Roxas' foul mouth he seemed to have around him). I could see how they meshed, and frankly, I was okay with it. I hoped they were happy.

Picturing their lives and their future together was so much easier than trying to form my own. I didn't know my future anymore. Where we would live, when we would be able to leave, if Naminé broken heart would ever heal (Oh, please, please, heal. Quickly.).

Reality was even more difficult to grasp since the major news stations had evacuated all their personnel. We received radio signal still… remnant waves from an island off the coast, but that was all the news we got. It made it hard to imagine reality. We were so isolated.

But every day the reality was solidifying. There wasn't much time left. The bits of news we heard when we were brave enough to turn on the radio informed us daily of death and conquerors and the poor people still struggling to escape. I wanted to ignore the signs, but ignoring them didn't change the fact that the war was encroaching on my front door.

Sora had already lulled into a deep sleep, and his heart beat slowly in his chest; the rhythm was a familiar melody in my head. I closed my eyes and listened, as I too drifted into sleep.

Buh-boom. Buh-boom. Buh-boom. Buh-boom. I felt my mind starting to shut down. Buh-boom. Buh-boom. _Knock. Knock knock. Knock. _

I bolted up, my own heart pounding in my chest.

_Knock knock. _

I glanced at the clock. Past midnight. Merry Christmas.

"Sora," I whispered, prodding him awake. He groaned in response, his eyes firmly shut. "Sora," I repeated, "Did you hear that?"

"Hear what?"

_Knock knock knock._

"_That_."

His eyes opened and bore into mine with a ferocity that gave me chills. I knew we were thinking the same thing. The war was here. It had finally come to claim us, the last of the innocents, its precious prize. They were ransacking the city. There was a soldier standing at my front door. His weapon was sharp and bloodthirsty—for my blood, for Sora's, for Naminé's. Our hope was worth nothing. It was time. Now.

"What do we do?" Sora whispered, his voice a distant scratch. All I could hear was my heart pumping in my ears. "Kairi… what do we do now?"

_Knock. _I grabbed his hand and kissed his fingertips.

"We will be brave," I said, the shaky tone of my voice defying my words. Together we stood and crept down the stairs, clutching each other with clammy hands. I stared at the door.

"I'll… I'll get it," he said. He approached the door, unlocked it, and placed his hand on the knob, letting it linger there until we heard another knock. This one was louder, more impatient.

My heart stopped as Sora turned the knob. The door creaked open, and I saw the solider standing there, bruised and wounded, staring at me with a weary smile on his face.

My eyes welled up.

Riku.

Riku was back.

"And here I am, thinking you would be waiting for me to walk up your front steps, but no, _I_ have to pound on the damn door to get your attention."

"Riku!" Sora cried as the two joined together in an embrace. Sora slapped Riku's back while Riku ruffled Sora's hair.

He turned to me. "Kairi. I'm sorry."

I ran up to hug him, squeezing him as hard as I could. "You're alive! You're really here!"

"Barely."

Sora spoke. "But… but how? Why?"

Riku sighed and shook his head. "Once I realized it was impossible for us to win, I came back. I had to come back."

"Impossible?" I asked. "But—"

"Long story," he said as he plopped down on one of the chairs, rubbing the muscles in his arms. "You won't believe me."

"Tell us anyway. Please," I begged, sitting down with Sora on the couch.

He sighed again, resting his head on the back of the chair and closing his eyes. He looked so exhausted.

Sora piped up, "Buddy, you can sleep first if you want." 

"No, no. I'm fine. I'll be fine." He took a deep breath while he rubbed his eyes, and I expected the worst. What he told me was worse than my expectations.

"When I finally managed to get to the frontlines," he began, "I soon realized exactly why our army was having so many problems defending the Nation. Exactly why our army couldn't—_can't—_seem to keep up with the Kingdom's forces. It's… it's some kind of magic."

"Magic?" Sora asked.

"I know it sounds crazy," he said, "But I promise you. Xemnas has all his soldiers equipped with these swords that look like keys, okay? And when these 'keyblades' pierce through our soldiers' chests… I… I could see their hearts, their spirits, leave their body…"

Riku leaned forward, his elbows balancing on his knees and his hands wringing nervously. His eyes were empty, and I knew he was back there on the battlefield.

"And in the place of their bodies, these dark creatures would sprout up from the ground and attack us. We started calling them Heartless. The Kingdom is winning because they're turning our own soldiers against us. They turn them into these… these _things_ and create more and more until all our soldiers are fighting against our old allies. It's…"

"Horrible," Naminé finished for him from the staircase.

We had been so engrossed in Riku's tale, we hadn't heard her come down the stairs. The silence was palpable.

Riku stood slowly, his body visibly aching from the motion.

"Naminé."

With her hollow eyes she stared at him, unable to even say his name. I could see her throat clenching as she struggled with her words, as she struggled to pick which ones she needed to say and which ones she wanted to say and which ones shouldn't be said at all. Her fists clenched at her sides, but her voice was low and calm when she spoke. She looked furious. She looked alive. I grabbed for Sora's hand.

"You left me," she said simply, quietly.

"I'm sorry!"

"You _left_ me," she repeated. "And you didn't even say goodbye."

"I couldn't, I—"

"After everything that happened. After I confessed my love for you, after I shared my deepest secrets, after you promised to be there for me, after _everything_," she said, her voice gaining strength. "You just left. Like that." Back to soft, calm.

"Nam—"

"Why did you even come back?" she asked. "I know you don't love me. Did you just want to see me cry? You wanted to see how broken you left me? Is that it?"

"Let me explain, please!" Riku's voice was frantic, begging.

"No. You need to go. You already broke my heart once. Please leave before you do it again. I know you don't love me. I know. I'm just a nobody. Who could ever love someone like me?"

"Naminé!" Riku shouted. "Stop it!" Tears shone in the corners of his eyes. "Of course I love you!"

"No, you don't."

He approached her, dug in his pocket, and pulled out a crumpled piece of paper. He unfolded it and gave it to her.

The drawing she had given him, streaked with dirt and blood.

"This was all that kept me going, Naminé. Thinking of you helped me survive. Thinking of you was the only thing… You are the reason I came back. _You_."

The drawing shook in her hands, and she looked at him with teary eyes and the faintest hint of a smile. "Just tell me one thing. Why did you leave me?"

"I left _because _I love you. I wanted to protect you! I know it doesn't seem right now, but when I left all I wanted to do was to make sure you were safe and fighting in this fucking war seemed to be my best option at the time, and I came back because I needed to protect you… I came back because we need to get out. We need to get out _now_."

We agreed to wait until first light.

Riku had informed us that the amount of boats left in the Southern Harbor was limited. The army itself was evacuating. Once these left, there would be no more.

We had to hurry. They were coming.

After weeks of isolation, of lethargic days and waiting, waiting, waiting, it was both a relief and a nightmare knowing that we were going to be in the Land shortly. So long our lives had been static, and now everything was changing all at once.

While Naminé and Riku holed themselves away in her room, catching up on lost time and countless apologies, Sora and I flew around the house, trying to fit our lives into four tiny backpacks. These small bags would be all we had to start our new lives in the Land. Our lives as refugees, under King Mickey's protection.

It didn't matter that I had once been livid at Riku's decision to leave, because his decision to return was what would save Naminé. I knew it. When they had kissed, I saw her eyes light up as the life rushed back to her. I knew she would be okay with Riku.

"It's time," Sora said as the first rays of Christmas dawn shone through the big window.

All four of us strapped on a bag and rushed out the door. Naminé was slow. She was still weak, after all. But we all made our way through the streets slowly to the harbor. As we approached, my stomach dropped in my chest. One military ship. Full.

We ran up to the man guarding the plank onto the ship. He had dreadlocks and deep, brown eyes. His uniform read "Cpt. Sparrow". He was our only hope.

When he looked at us, I saw the answer in his eyes, and I knew I wasn't going to be allowed on this ship. Time was ticking.

"Limited space. Military personnel and their families only at this point. No civilians, eh?" he said.

"Only military?" Sora complained. "Why is that?"

"We need t' make sure all our trained soldiers evacuate so we can have some sorta army to join up with that Mickey fellow, see? If we leave all our military men, we haven't got a chance."

Silence. The possible plans ran through my head. I caught Sora's attention and knew he would agree with me. The most important thing was to get Naminé and Riku away. So Naminé would be safe.

"I'm… I'm a Nation solider," Riku declared, rifling through his pockets for his documentation. He showed the Captain his papers.

"All rightey, mate. Get on." We walked forward in a pitiful attempt. "And who do you think you are?" He sneered at us.

"These are… my friends," Riku said.

"Sorry, mate. I already told ye— no civilians. Your friends can try the Western Harbor. There… there _may_ be some civilian ships still there."

He glanced back at us, and I saw the apology in his eyes.

"But this is my… wife," he said, grabbing hold of Naminé's arm. She nodded without taking her gaze from the ground.

"Okay, fine then. You two on." He looked at Sora and I. "Say your goodbyes now, this ship's heading out in two minutes. And hurry on to the other harbor. There can't be many ships left. Ye four were crazy for waitin' so long." And he left us to our goodbyes.

There were no elaborate things to say.

Only tears and hugs and hopes. Hopes that we would be able to find each other once we got to the Land.

"We'll find each other as soon as possible," I said to Naminé and she held me tight, her tears rolling down her cheeks.

"I don't want to leave you," she sobbed.

"Naminé, I need you to go with Riku. For me. Sora and I will be fine. We'll only be separated for the journey over. We'll see each other real soon."

"She's right," Sora added.

"Don't worry, Nam. I'm here. We'll all be okay," Riku said as he grabbed her hand, ready to lead her on to the ship.

Sora and I hugged them one more time, but deep down, I knew something was wrong.

"I love you," I told my baby sister. "I'll see you in no time at all." I kissed her head and watched Riku help her up onto the ship. They waved, and I wondered when I had become such a great liar.

There were no ships in the Western Harbor. There were no ships anywhere. There was plenty of noise though, in the form of explosions and in the form of screams.

They were here.

Naminé and Riku had sailed. I knew they were safe, and that settled my worries a little bit. But now was the time to focus on me, Sora, and how we were going to survive this.

We took off and ran back into the streets, our feet slapping painfully against the cold concrete as we sprinted. Somewhere, anywhere. We needed to find a place to be safe, but there really wasn't anywhere to go, nobody to ask for help, nobody to accept our pleas.

Sora pulled me along, his fingernails digging into my wrist. I knew it should hurt. But I couldn't feel the pain anymore.

I was numb. Completely numb.

The cold, winter air burned against my cheeks, the wind turning them raw and dry. He turned the corner, tearing down the sidewalk. I forced short, heavy breaths into my chest as I ran. I couldn't explain why we were running. There was nowhere to run. Nowhere to hide.

He stopped abruptly, and I tripped over my shoes as I tried to mimic his movements. He leaned down and picked up a sheet of torn-up paper, its edges scorched with thick, black burn marks. I read over his shoulder with difficulty; my eyes were watering so much from the freezing air that all the words were blurred and smudged in my sight.

_Kingdom Hearts has won. Surrender. _

He dropped the sheet as swiftly as he had snatched it up from the ground, and it fluttered noiselessly back onto its resting place above the cement. Other similar fliers littered the streets. "C'mon," he said gruffly, taking hold of me again and dragging me along behind him. My shoes scuffed against the ground as my body struggled to get back up to speed.

"Momma!" a tiny boy screamed. "Poppa!"

My heart reached out to him, but it was hopeless. I was sure his parents were gone. Or dead.

"Kairi," Sora said to me as he slowed, "Look up."

My gaze flicked up to the burning sky, and briefly, for just a short moment, it looked like it was snowing. Fluffy flakes dropping from the sky began to slowly cover the streets, landing in my hair, blanketing every available surface. Somehow we had made it to the harbor. The boats and ships looked strange and other-worldly covered in the light gray coat.

"It's not snow, is it?" I asked. I don't know why I was even asking. It was obvious.

"No."

It was ash. Hot, burning ash fell from the sky on Christmas Day. I swallowed, my saliva sticking in my throat as the realization hit me like a slap in the face.

We were in hell.

A laugh bubbled out of me sickeningly. "I guess I'll never get my White Christmas, will I?"

"I'm sorry," he whispered, kissing my hand.

I stared at the ground, and stood shocked as a giant darkness overshadowed Sora and I. I turned around, my feet pivoting in sync with Sora's.

A massive battle ship cruised towards us, heavy black smoke pouring from its stack. A Kingdom ship.

I squeezed Sora's hand, lacing my fingers tightly between his.

"This is it," I said. My voice was barely audible over the screams of the few remaining people running, crying for their loved ones, begging for mercy.

Sora took my face in hands and kissed me roughly, his chapped lips shoved against mine. I wrapped my arms around his neck, pulling him close. There was no longer any space between us, but I kept pulling him closer, my lips caressing his with all the passion I could muster. He pressed against me harder, his hands weaving spirals through my hair.

I pulled away and knew it was the last kiss we would ever share. One last tear fell from my eyes, and Sora wiped it from my cold, dirty cheek before it could drip to the ground.

He pressed his forehead against mine and I lost myself in his blue eyes. My favorite shade of blue. A rush of images bombarded me. I saw Zack's corpse. Yuffie breaking down. Aerith and Cloud waiting for us in the Land with open arms. Roxas and Axel coyly smiling at me from the end of a bar.

I saw Riku holding Naminé in the evacuation boat, murmuring into her ear one thousand more apologies.

I saw Sora, dressed in a tuxedo, waiting for me at the end of the aisle. I saw Sora, holding my hand as I birthed our firstborn. I saw Sora, crying as our third child graduated from high school. I saw Sora, hunched over, placing flowers on a grave—my grave. I saw Sora and I saw me and I saw everything that I had ever wanted and everything I would never have.

"Kairi," he whispered tenderly, pulling me back to the present. And I saw Sora. I saw him there, real, alive. And the words flew out of my mouth because they needed to be said then and there.

"I love you, Sora," I sputtered. "I love you, I love you, I love you, I love you—"

"I'll always love you," he said. "Until the end of forever."

I nodded, took the hands of my lover, and closed my eyelids, waiting for the cold face of death to take us.

_Until the end of forever_, he had said.

I believed him.


End file.
